The Succubus
by Miracles79
Summary: Everything you know about Hermione Granger is a lie. At first glance she would appear to you as nothing more than just another muggle but that could not be further from the truth. Hermione is special, one of a kind and in time she will uncover the truth and the answer to her one question; who is Hermione Granger? Heavy smut! More info at the end of the first chapter.
1. Chapter 1: Powerless

Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Prologue: Powerless

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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Darkness had spread its way through Hogwarts castle; the sun's rays receding from view to be replaced by black clouds and shadow. A cold chill descended with the fog, a sign that winter had arrived early this time of year. It was not an unexpected phenomenon but most certainly uncomfortable for the few that remained inside the imposing castle. Thankfully, for the occupants that stayed behind, there were none of the usual sounds of late night cramming or whispered conversation in the halls.

And, why should there be?

School had finally finished for the year, students returning to their families in droves. The only people who remained were the more industrious members of the teaching body: Professor McGonagall, Severus Snape and Rubeus Hagrid, to name but a few. Most kept to themselves working into the night to plan lessons or check the attendance sheets for their houses. But on this occasion, and rather out of the ordinary, tonight, Minerva McGonagall could be seen walking through the halls, moving further away from her office. To most this would not have seemed a strange occurrence but to those who truly knew the professor it would have seemed very out of character.

Minerva McGonagall was a very studious woman; she worked diligently and always kept a close eye on her students whether they were from her house or not. She was also known for rarely venturing outside her office unless called upon to teach classes or lead rounds about the castle, which was always tedious and uneventful.

A common trend, amongst older, love-struck, students, was to use the empty classrooms as their own personal make out room. Unfortunately, this idea was almost always accompanied by stupidity; how older students did not have the forethought to use silencing spells was beyond Minerva. Not that she condoned these actions, oh no, in fact she despised the idea entirely, but her displeasure was only second to that of disappointment.

To think that Hogwarts's oldest students had not had the sense to perform even the simplest of spells; it was embarrassing to say the least. Did her lessons not sink into their heads or something? But, never the less, and as she had always been reminded, these rounds were for the student's better protection. She would endure whatever came if it meant her students felt safe and protected.

So, in hindsight, it was best to say; she rarely left her office unless her profession dictated that she must. So it begs the question; why was Minerva walking the halls when she would much prefer to stay locked up inside her office, working?

The simple answer: Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and wizardry, had called for a meeting. The message, like most messages from Albus, was prompt and to the point, the deadline being this afternoon in fact. That was why Professor McGonagall could be seen walking the halls towards Dumbledore's office, her steps calm and measured.

Having reached the entrance to the Headmaster's office, Minerva spoke to the stone gargoyle who only glowered up at her as she approached. Minerva might have been feeling paranoid but the gargoyle always seemed to have that same look of loathing in its eye every time she entered. She doubted it was a personal grudge but it still confused her, although most things which involved Albus Dumbledore would confuse her.

Ignoring the gargoyle, Minerva climbed up the circling stairs unperturbed as they revolved and ascended towards a wooden door high above. As she waited, McGonagall pondered on a question she had been asking herself ever since she received the letter from Dumbledore. The question being; why was she called to Albus's office at such short notice?

Were any of the students from her house in danger of being excluded?

Doubtful, that honour, thankfully, resided with Severus Snape and more importantly Slytherin House. Snape would often be called to Albus's office to discuss complaints raised against his house, the usual pupils discussed being; Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. In fact, in an uncomfortable statistic, it was revealed that both Draco and Pansy had received more warnings than all the students in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw combined. Severus must have had a remarkable way with words as neither had been excluded for their behaviour… not yet anyhow.

So, Minerva doubted it had anything to do with exclusion. Perhaps it had something to do with… behaviour?

Once again that suggestion sounded very unlikely. Aside from a few students who caused frequent disruptions in class, I.e. Fred and George - Gryffindor was a very well behaved house. There numerous victories, over other houses, in the house cup were a testament to that. Although, if Minerva was being brutally honest, the cup was won single-handedly by Hermione Granger who achieved at least two-thirds of their total house points alone.

…

If teachers were allowed favourites then McGonagall would have picked Hermione Granger, from all the students she had taught over the years, in a heartbeat. Hermione was not only intelligent but had a work ethic that beggared belief; she was polite and had been Minerva's only choice for Gryffindor's prefect this year. She came to Hogwarts from a muggle upbringing and yet on her first day she had put all other students to shame with her knowledge and understanding of complex subjects. A student this rare was simply a treat to behold. The last student with such a rare gift was none other than Chloe Roberts who would go on to become the highest ranking member of the auror office.

So, behaviour wasn't an option either. Which meant only one thing; it had something to do with the, so called, 'Golden Trio.'

It wasn't a hard deduction because in all her years of teaching she had never discussed students so frequently then Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter. She only wondered which member this discussion would involve; most likely Harry as he managed to cause trouble both inside Hogwarts and out. Not that he was a trouble-maker, oh no, in fact Harry was remarkably well behaved for someone with so much publicity. He was not exactly diligent in his studies either, much like Ron, but he had a level head and a talent for quelling danger whenever it reared its ugly head.

So, with somewhat of an understanding of the situation, Minerva stepped off the revolving stair case and walked towards the door. To her surprise the door was already wide open, and before she could knock to make Dumbledore aware of her presence, the same man's voice reached her. "Come in Minerva, have a seat. I fear this conversation may take us a while so it's best we get started."

Already a bad sign, Albus's voice sounded worn and that was something she did not expect of the usually vibrant Headmaster. Stepping through, Minerva saw Albus feeding a young phoenix on its porch, the fire which surrounded the feathery beast igniting with every mouthful of food. Walking to a chair in front of the headmaster's desk, Minerva took a seat and waited for Albus to follow. The situation sounded important, and if the piles of parchment left on his desk were any indication the topic would not be easy to digest.

"Before we start; would you like a sherbet lemon?"

"No, that's quite alright." Minerva replied, wanting to get to the brunt of the problem.

"A shame. I have grown quite fond of these since returning from London."

Having said that Albus un-wrapped a small yellow sweet and popped it in his mouth, savouring the taste as he went to sit down. However, as Albus sat in his chair, McGonagall immediately seized upon the name of the city he had mistakenly divulged.

"From London?" Minerva repeated, sensing the subject of this conversation immediately. "So this has something to do with Harry? Is he alright?"

Chuckling, Albus removed his half mooned spectacles and rubbed them against the cuff of his cloak. "As far as I know Harry is fine… and living with his Aunt and Uncle if I'm not mistaken. No, the topic I wish to discuss at this time doesn't actually involve Harry. Better yet, it involves a close friend of his; Hermione Granger."

Taken a back, McGonagall probed on. "Ms Granger? Has she done something wrong?"

"No, no. Quite like always Ms Granger has been an excellent student with perfect attendance and even better grades." Albus's expression gradually turned as he considered how best to approach the next topic. It would be difficult and very hard to explain, not to mention comprehend.

He had only recently acquired the information from a well trusted source and even now he was struggling under its weight. Over sight was one thing but to be completely blind to the signs was something else entirely, most unlike the reputable wizard who always kept his priorities in check.

"Unfortunately, this year might prove to be very difficult for Ms Granger. I'm not even sure what will happen, if I'm honest; this is the first time I've ever faced a situation as complex as this."

"What do you mean, Albus? What's going on?"

Looking Minerva in the eye, Albus straightened up and prepared for the worst.

…

…

"Hermione Granger is not what she appears."

"Sorry?" Minerva uttered, all other forms of speech lost to her at the present time. Motionless, a cold shiver spread through Minerva's body, eyes wide as she looked at Albus's stern features. This was not just some joke said in poor taste. Albus was serious, and more importantly he was speaking no word of a lie.

Which meant…?

"It's like I said," Albus continued, cutting off Minerva's reverie. "Hermione Granger is not, in fact, Hermione Granger."

"I'm sorry, Albus, you've completely lost me. What do you mean Hermione isn't… Hermione?"

Looking down at the piles of parchment cluttering his desk, Albus picked up the first one closest to him and showed it to Professor McGonagall. Leaving the parchment in front of Minerva, Albus then picked up a second parchment and placed it beside the first one. Confused by these actions, Minerva poured over the contents but was left feeling a little unsure of what she was supposed to be looking for.

"This is Ms Granger's personal information, am I correct?"

"Yes."

Looking back towards the parchment Minerva scanned the contents a second time but everything seemed to be in order. To her well trained eye nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary; her age, gender, birthplace and everything else that was included was right and up to date. So, why did Albus seem unnerved by these documents?

"I don't see the problem. This information is in line with everything I know about Ms Granger, unless her information has changed all of a sudden."

"It has," Albus muttered, scratching his chin with a sigh of resignation. "Hermione Granger's personal information is incorrect, almost all of it in fact."

"'Incorrect?' But… how? I don't understand?"

"I will tell you but Minerva, what I am about to tell you must stay in this office. It cannot be discussed with anyone other than myself, am I understood?"

The stern manner in which Albus asked this question caught Minerva off guard. She was one of Albus's most trusted advisors and he would rarely talk to her like this. The only conclusion she could make was that the matter was of the upmost importance.

Albus only ever acted in this manner when lives were in the balance and if Hermione was in any sort of danger then Minerva would support her in any way she can. Hermione was not only a bright and kind student but she was also one of McGonagall's favourites. She deserved a long and prosperous life and Minerva would ensure she lived to experience it.

"I understand. Now, please, Albus, tell me what's wrong!"

"Thank you, Minerva. Hermione will need all the support she can get," Albus stated, smiling at Minerva before returning to the topic at hand. "Like I said before, the information in Hermione's personal information is wrong. The documents were not forged on purpose; the truth was merely hidden from view. No one knows about Ms Granger's lineage, that includes Ms Granger herself."

"How do you know it's wrong? The personal information, I mean."

"It was confirmed not only by one of my most trusted advisors but also by the woman who first made the claim." Noticing that Minerva was about to interrupt, Albus raised his hand to silence any questions. "I think its best I tell you the facts before explaining the source of the problem, if you are agreeable?"

"Of course," McGonagall replied, eager to learn more of the issue.

"Well, to start off with; Hermione is not a muggle."

"What do you mean; Hermione is not a muggle?" McGonagall responded, features stern but her eyes betraying her surprise.

"Well, actually, that is not completely true; she is still a muggle, born and raised, but her blood contains only half the genetics found in muggles. The other half is something far more complicated." Albus stated, looking at the phoenix that was leaning to scratch its head on the ornament.

"Do you know what the other half is?"

"I know of it but don't know what word best describes it." Albus thought for a moment and pondered on how best to describe this phenomenon. Several seconds later, Albus nodded his head and returned his attention to McGonagall, having reached a satisfactory conclusion. "I think the best word to describe this phenomenon would be; Succubus. There are other words, of course; Siren, predator, seductress but the most fitting would be succubus."

"Are you saying Hermione is a half-blooded Succubus? That's not possible; we would have seen the signs."

"Ah, but we couldn't," Albus corrected, leaning back in his chair. "Because in most cases a succubus child stays with their parents and is taught and raised in the manner befitting of their kind. But in Hermione's case - and in the case of other half-bloods - she was abandoned." Before Albus could explain further, Minerva suddenly realised the reason for her obliviousness to Hermione's condition.

Without meaning to Minerva interrupted, speaking more to herself than Albus. "Which means the ritual wasn't performed."

"Exactly," Albus said, a hint of pride in his voice as Minerva realised the situation. "As we know, full blooded succubus's do not need the ritual as their blood awakens naturally by itself. But in Hermione's case, and as a half-blood, her blood would need to be awakened by one of her kind. And, that is why she is in danger? A succubus has marked her and is coming to awaken her blood."

"So, what do we do? Do we hide Hermione inside the castle and double the protection?"

Grimacing, Albus informed Minerva of the unfortunate truth. "It's already too late. The succubus has already received approval from the clans to 'blood' Hermione and we can't do anything to stop it." Noticing Minerva's look of outrage, Albus continued on. "I tried, believe me Minerva; I tried to make them see reason but they are a dying breed and I couldn't convince them to seek out other alternatives."

"So, you gave up? When did you, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, cave to the wishes of anyone?" Minerva piped up; her voice rising, outraged that he would not stand for Hermione in such a troubling time.

"The situation is not as simple as you'd think," Albus said calmly, appearing unperturbed by Minerva's glare, which would have silenced most men in the Ministry of Magic no matter their position.

"Then explain the situation. Maybe then I could understand why you shirked your duty."

"They threatened to go to war other the issue, Minerva," Albus said, not troubled by the previous remark. "They told me that war would be waged if I took Hermione away from them. I don't know why but they value Ms Granger above many other members of their clan. They call her 'the miracle child.' For what reason, I don't know, but she is clearly more than meets the eye."

"'The miracle child?' I wonder what that is."

Placing his chin in his hands Albus mulled this over for a while. "It could mean a number of things but there is no way of knowing until the clans wish to reveal it. They are already suspicious of my intentions; just the thought of losing Ms Granger was enough to enrage them beyond the point of reason. What would bring an entire species to the point of war?"

"To think they would wage war over a single succubus. Surely that's just talk, Albus. There numbers are too few. They wouldn't risk extinction over Ms Granger?"

"Not only would they risk extinction," Albus continued, standing up and leaning against his chair. ", but they would also take thousands of wizards and muggles with them."

"There would be no positive outcome, would there? If we win we'd have wiped out an entire species, and if we lose then we would also lose Ms Granger. No matter what, it's a losing scenario." Minerva concluded, watching as Albus paced behind his desk in controlled strides.

"You see my predicament. And, in any case, I can't risk an international incident while the Death Eaters are rebuilding and Lord Voldermort is regaining his strength. We cannot fight on two fronts and expect to win. I'm sorry Minerva, but if I moved to protect Ms Granger from the clans then I would have risked the lives of everyone."

Shocked by this sudden revelation, Minerva stared into space. Fear and understanding gripping her being to the point of physical pain, she realised now that Albus had no control over the situation. "No, I… I understand now. The lives of the many must come before the life of one. So, what will we do? Can we support Hermione or would it upset the clans?"

"That is where I have some good news," Albus said, sounding more cheerful than before. "Hermione will not be moving to the clans but will instead stay and study at Hogwarts. They refused my initial request, understandable since they would want to keep her safe. But after showing them her grades they seemed far more accepting of the idea."

"Why would they care about her grades?" Minerva asked, confused by the clans sudden change of plans.

"Well, naturally, because one of their own would in a better position to influence legislation at the Ministry." Seeing Minerva's raised eye brow, Albus included his obvious omission. "I might have, also, let slip that Hermione was hoping to work in the Department of Magical creatures when she's older. Once I let that slip, negotiations seemed to go on with very little hindrance. They were practically begging me to take Ms Granger off their hands, couldn't imagine why." Albus said, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Hmm, very clever."

"Not too clever it would seem. The clans have asked that one of their own be present to monitor Hermione's progress." Albus informed, returning to his seat.

"What? And you refused them I'm sure. Albus, we can't have another succubus on the grounds; that would put even more lives at risk."

"The clans and I discussed this at length and managed to reach an accord. Rather than a succubus coming to our school, Hermione will be monitored by an impartial advisor; in this case, a siren."

"Aren't sirens and succubus's one and the same?"

Laughing, Albus glanced towards his papers and said. "Hmm, that is a common misconception. Sirens and succubuses are closely related, yes, but they aren't one and the same. Sirens have learnt to control their desires and can function within society without prejudice. The effects of mating with a Siren are also less harmful. For instance, a succubus can kill if left undisturbed during the mating cycle while a siren can only cause a loss of consciousness. Considering the alternative, I think I worked out a mutually beneficial deal."

"And I take it this Siren will be living in the lake? Students will need to take different routes to herbolagy and care of magical creatures if that's the case."

Standing to pet the phoenix, which was making a loud chirping noise, Albus replied. "That will not be necessary. The Sirens are sending one of their best. We have agreed upon certain conditions to protect the students. To start with, she will remain under the water for the duration of classes and only have contact with Ms Granger, you and me. Ms Granger will also need to report any changes, whether physical or psychological, to the siren once a week and that is mandatory."

"So, we'll need to inform Hermione about this then."

"There will be no need. The siren will make contact with Hermione first; the clans do not want us involved at all. We're lucky they even allowed her back to Hogwarts."

Sighing, Minerva looked at the clock stationed behind Albus's desk and realised how late it is. She still needed to finish that letter to the ministry.

"Oh, and the ministry, must not catch wind of this. If they find out that Ms Granger is a succubus then she would be blacklisted from all positions in their employ. We can't afford that, Ms Granger has the potential to change the face of this world for the better, if she so desires. I won't let her talents be shunned because of mere squeamishness." Albus said, sounding as if this was obvious and not out of context whatsoever.

Minerva was about to question Albus's ability to read minds when she saw the look on Albus's face. He looked drained, overworked and this new headache would no doubt cause more discomfort. It was not a common sight, the great man usually put on a front while in the company of others. But it seemed this most recent problem had caused his facade to crack, if only slightly.

"We must place are trust in Hermione. We cannot disrupt her life or make any attempts to sway her away from the clans. The Siren will know if we do, they have a remarkable ability to hear everything no matter the distance. My hands are tied, and that is something I do not like."

"Is there anything we can do? Do you think the clans will allow Hermione to live as an independent woman when she leaves?"

"I hope so. Hogwarts was, after all, created to educate young minds and create all the opportunities they could desire. Ms Granger's independence must come before the whims of the clans; we can't allow her to fall prey to their doctrine."

Sensing the disgust in his voice, Minerva voiced her concern. "You know something, don't you, Albus. What aren't you telling me?"

"The clans… they want her to be married to a member of their clan, and to procreate as soon as she bleeds. I will not allow that to happen; Hermione deserves far better than that. I will not leave her to become a…"

Noticing Albus's voluntary silence, Minerva suddenly became frenzied. "Albus? You don't think…?"

Grimacing, and rubbing his forehead, Albus replied. "I do. Ms Granger will be used by the clans so that they can use her intelligence to their own benefit; that much I am sure of. But this other ability of hers is what worries me. I need to learn more about this 'miracle.' There must be something she can offer the clans that no other succubus can. I have my suspicions but I don't feel comfortable voicing them, they are too ghastly to imagine."

Minerva sat in silence, realising the line of thinking Albus was going down. She had feared this the moment Albus had made mention of 'the miracle.' For what did a dying race need more than an injection of life?

"Ms. Granger will be safe until she leaves Hogwarts, and that won't be for another few years. Until then I will place my full confidence in her. She will do what's right and I trust her to control whatever urges she feels while at school. She'll be alright…" And yet, as Minerva watched the Headmaster stare with a steadfast determination, she couldn't ignore the underlying hint of concern hidden beneath his rimmed glasses.

…

Little did they know that in the darkness, hidden in a thicket of trees, outside the Granger household, stood a scarlet Succubus preparing to make her move. Her eyes trained on the slim figure of a woman who sat on her bed, reading a heavy tome. This was it! After many years of searching she had finally found her. Hermione Granger. Now, finally, the blood ritual would be complete and a miracle would be born.

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Author's Note:

Hello all! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new story. It has been in my mind for quite some time now and I finally found the time to write out the first chapter.

I'm going to give you a little background on this story now; what to expect, the people involved and basic stuff like that. No spoilers!

Firstly, this story will focus on romance first and foremost. The main character will be Hermione Granger and there will be romantic interest in her not by one but by many female characters.

**Hermione x multiple female characters. **

As you can see this story is aimed at a mature audience. There will be a lot of smut and sex in this story; the situations Hermione will be involved in will be unique and I am hoping never before seen in any previous Harry Potter story. I'm going to be quite creative to say the least.

Hermione will be involved with eight other female characters. I am not going to reveal the identity of these characters because I want you to figure them out as the story progresses. However, feel free to make suggestions for characters you want to see included in this story. They would have to be female, and if a particular character is heavily favoured then I will include them in the story.

For fans of a good story; I'm hoping the forthcoming plot will be to your liking. I am trying to write a smutty story with the inclusion of an interesting plot… only time will tell if I succeed.

I know a big question for you readers out there will be: how did Hermione come to be a succubus and how will she be affected by this. Don't worry; you will have your answers in chapters 3 and 4. Updates between chapters may take some time, due to Empty Places being a higher priority, but I'm hoping to make this story just as big. The Succubus will be my second main objective, writing wise.

Chapters will be between 3,000 to 5,000 words unless more detail needs to be included. 3,000 to 5,000 is the target and this will hopefully lessen the time between updates, and I mean hopefully. On another note there will be no male involvement with Hermione, in regards to her romance situation. Harry, Ron and the usual cast will turn up as support but will not be included in the romantic situation; more will be explained in the 4th chapter.

I've probably left a lot of stuff out but I'll cover that during future chapters. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to some very hot scenes that will be coming up soon. All the best and apologies for the writing, it wasn't up to my usual standards but I hope it was still eligible. Any offers for Beta reading will be gladly accepted, I do need the help.

Thanks once again, and I'll be writing soon :D


	2. Chapter 2: Paranoia

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 2: Paranoia.

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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In a small cramped room, on the outskirts of London, Hermione Granger sat on her duvet less bed studying. It was a sight many in Hogwarts had grown used to, and more so expected of the renowned bookworm. She worked in silence, biting her lip whenever she came across a difficult question. In the past these questions would have been few and far between but on this occasion and as evidenced by the soreness of her lip, Hermione was struggling. Often working ahead of her peers, Hermione had reached the end of the syllabus for the New Year and was finding the contents rather overwhelming.

The book which lay before her was an old, encrusted book and considered mandatory for Ancient Runes, according to the book list she received early this year. Of course studying things like; defence against the dark arts or charms could not be achieved while outside the confines of the wizarding world. Hermione was still 16 and therefore unable to perform magic due to the law passed down by the Ministry of Magic. This could easily be worked around once she returned to Hogwarts, but, in the meantime, Hermione would busy herself with the theoretical aspects of all her subjects.

"So, then…? No, that's not right." Hermione murmured, aggravated by the lack of clarity this book offered.

Flicking the page over, her fingers covered in pen ink, Hermione scrawled some notes down on a sheet of paper beside her. On occasion, when her mind could not decipher a puzzle, Hermione would often write down her musings on a spare piece of paper. Ever since she was as little as four Hermione had used this method to solve her problems. These problems didn't just centre solely on study, no; in her earlier days Hermione would document ways of improving her social skills, as well as her confidence.

You may find this surprising, considering Hermione's straightforward nature but there was a time when Hermione was not so confident. There had been times when Hermione was alone, friendless; an outcast because of her remarkable intelligence and her eagerness to answer every question asked of her. Many in her old primary school, when she was educated in the muggle world, saw her as a show off, a teacher's pet while parents saw her as pretentious.

In time, after moving to Hogwarts, and realising she was special, Hermione started to make new friends such as Harry, Ron and eventually Ginny too. They all befriended her of their own fruition and as a result Hermione no longer felt lonely anymore. Finally, Hermione knew what it felt like to be truly valued. The emptiness of her youth became nothing more than a reminder of how far she had come in such a short space of time. The friendships she had forged with Harry, Ron and Ginny were precious. Ginny, in particular, was a unique ray of sunshine in her day.

She couldn't figure out why but she really looked forward to the time they spent together. Perhaps it was because Ginny was her first female friend? Possible. But regardless, unknown to Ginny, Hermione would always count down the days until they would see each other again. As for the boys, well, she found that they would often talk about the same topics and neglect to finish their homework until the last possible minute. An unfortunate pattern which had showed no signs of fixing itself any time soon. Utterly frustrating. But despite all this, Hermione still loved them deeply; both, Harry and Ron were her overly protective brothers and it was something she was increasingly comforted by.

Of course, as a result, her relationship with her parents became strained due to her absence in their lives. But this was something Hermione expected and even hoped to fix later in her life. For now, they were incredibly proud of her, and after being Hermione's strength through much of her youth, they were grateful to see their daughter so happy and full of life. After all, happiness was something that had been missing from her days as a child.

…

Jotting down some more notes to this complex question, Hermione closed her eyes, breathed in deeply and processed all the information she had collected. With each shallow breath Hermione removed all irrelevant data, compiling the information that was important and pushing it to the forefront of her mind. Using her hands Hermione motioned the irrelevant information away and dragged the rest till she could feel her hand scribe the information on the nearby paper. In time comprehension dawned and with a flicker of her eye lids she was back to the present, her page filled with bullet points and text.

Smiling, Hermione put her pen down and stretched her arms into the air. Her back creaked as she made this motion; it seemed sitting in the same place for several hours was not good for one's health. Eyes drawn to the darkness, Hermione looked out the window. Night had fallen and the wind was starting to whip up a frenzy; the bushes in her garden bristling under the relentless pressure. Hermione sat idle and watched nature at work, feeling a certain amount of comfort in the spectacle; she always liked to observe natural phenomena's. It couldn't be considered a hobby but it was certainly a passing fancy; rain, especially, was Hermione's favourite unless she was caught in it of course.

"It must be late; what time is it?"

Having said this, Hermione turned her body and leaned over to fetch her alarm clock. Pushing it around with the tips of her fingers, the clock face read; 01:13. Pondering on this Hermione decided she still had time before bed, and with it being the summer holidays there was no need for an early night. Returning to her textbook, flicking through the pages to reach the contents page, a sudden sound caught her attention and she stilled. Deafening silence passed as her senses heightened, listening out for a repeat of the sound she had heard a moment before. Keeping her breathing to a minimum, Hermione straightened her posture and turned her face to look out the window.

… Nothing.

… Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing, seemingly, out of place.

And yet something felt wrong… something felt very, very wrong. It could have been Hermione's irrational mind playing tricks on her, brought on by her frequent battles with Lord Voldemort and the like, but something was amiss. While surrounded by the familiarity of her home, Hermione felt as if certain things were askew, out of place, in her normal muggle surroundings. An uncomfortable feeling which did not dissipate with the passage of time, in fact, it had the opposite effect. With time came certainty. Something was most definitely wrong and the worst thing of all… Hermione could feel a set of eyes watching her every move.

Unfriendly eyes watching her from the safety and security of their hiding place. The hairs on Hermione's neck bristled and her features, which were usually hardened, crumbled as she tried to maintain the image of an untroubled girl. It was best to keep up pretences, to not let this person know that she was aware of their unsettling stare. That was if she was even being watched at all. Hermione hoped she was wrong and even tried to convince herself of that very fact but she had too much experience of situations like these to be fooled.

As Hermione remained stock still, her eyes trained on the textbook, she felt the oppressive silence rain down on her. The silence made the whole situation feel unnatural. It was common for birds to nestle in the trees outside her window, braving the weather to whistle their favourite tunes, but they didn't come today. She expected to hear the sounds of the wind as it whipped the branches of a tree against her window, but the expected sound never came. Even when leaves brushed against the window, no sound came. Nothing.

… Everything was silent.

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Then, just as suddenly as the sounds evaporated from existence, they gradually began to return. The familiar sounds of wind rustling through the trees could be heard, before the sound of a car's horn cut through the silence like a blade. Everything had returned to normal, and yet Hermione wasn't convinced. Glancing towards her suitcase, used primarily for her stay at Hogwarts, Hermione vied up all possible options.

1). She could ignore the noises she heard before and go about her business untroubled?

2). She could take up arms and stay up all night until the danger had passed?

3). She could turn off the light and wait an hour before giving up and going back to bed?

4). Or, she could go downstairs lock every door and inspect the house all the way to its foundation.

In the end, and after careful deliberation, Hermione went with option four. She would go downstairs and inspect the house as thoroughly as she was able, and, if she did happen to come across an intruder then she would ensure her safety before all else. Under age magic or not Hermione would ensure her safety and the safety of her family… whenever they returned.

Fortunately for Hermione, her parents were not actually in the house today. Circumstances dictated that they would be needed elsewhere; attending a wedding with a close personal friend who worked at their dental practice. Hermione had met this friend, Cecilia, only a couple of times and the last she had seen of her Hermione had been on the cusp of turning eleven. She did not need to attend and was, in fact, given the option of whether to go or not and she rightly choose the latter. Otherwise, well, she would have felt like a wedding crasher who had no reason to be there other than to fill a seat.

No, her time would be much better spent studying and increasing her knowledge in the subjects she would be learning for this year. Hermione had been as productive as ever over the holiday and that would not change no matter the circumstances. Her parents were, notably, aggrieved by this as they wanted to spend more time with their daughter and Hermione tried to make time for familial bonding but it was tough. Just like Cecilia and all other family friends, Hermione did not know her parents well and in some respects she was as distant with them as she would be with any stranger. She hardly knew her parents anymore, her vibrant life in the wizarding world had left her detached from the muggle one and thus her family too.

But Hermione promised herself, and hoped, that she could rectify this in time. Her parents had been an integral part of her youth and she never wanted to lose the bond they shared… but now was not the time to be concerned by that. She was getting distracted, her troubled mind rushing to topics which had no relation to her situation and only helped to leave her unprepared.

As the sounds persisted, and to her ears increased in volume, Hermione leaned over to her lamp and turned the light off, closing the blinds as she did so. Due to the familiarity of the room, Hermione easily navigated past the piles of paper on the floor, the chair resting beside her bed before arriving at her opened suitcase. Reaching inside, Hermione pulled out her wand from the small compartment and stood. Now fully equipped, Hermione tiptoed towards her bedroom door and gently nudged it open. The only sounds that reached Hermione's ears were the scratches of the branches against her bedroom window, and with this understanding she proceeded on wards.

Arriving at the first door, her parent's room, Hermione whipped it open and pointed her wand through the darkness. To her relief no movement could be seen further in, the room lit up adequately by the moonlight which only ever seemed to reach her parents room. Breathing in Hermione moved forward turning on the light and searching every crevice within her parent's room, but there were no signs that anything had been tampered with. A good sign. Maybe it really was just her mind playing tricks on her.

Closing the door Hermione marched forward, subtlety in her movements gone as she threw open door after door with no signs of an intruder to speak of. All that was left was the kitchen, where the back door could be found. That damn door had caused Hermione no endless grief, not only was it faulty, opening without the need of a key, but it was also decaying by the day. Hermione had begged her parents to mend or replace it but they always said the same thing.

"There's no need to spend money on fixing that door, we're struggling financially as it is. It has served us well in the past and I see no reason to get rid of it now."

Hermione only hoped it was closed because if it was open then that could mean one of two things. Either the door had opened of its own fruition, forced open by the gale outside, or it had been opened from the outside with a little human strength. The latter was what worried her the most; even with a wand in her hand, a thief could easily jump her when she least expected. She was hardly the strongest of people and she would be easily overpowered. Without a wand Hermione would be completely defenceless and left to the mercy of the perpetrators whims.

… She had to move silently now.

… Her ears were tuned to even the slightest hint of movement.

… Hermione had purposely lowered her rate of breathing and calmed her beating heart.

She would be prepared no matter what happened.

Moving back through the corridor, her wand pointed in front of her, Hermione reached the entrance to the kitchen. Keeping close to the wall Hermione listened out for any sounds further in; the sounds of the wind greeting her ears but nothing else. With one final exhale, her grip tightening around her wand, Hermione spun around and looked into the kitchen.

… It was empty.

… And, better yet, the door was closed.

"It was nothing," Hermione murmured, lowering her wand as she stared through to the kitchen. "It was just my imagination. What has gotten into me?"

Taking some precious few seconds to berate herself, Hermione stowed her wand back into the pocket of her shorts and left the kitchen. Turning off the lights in the living room and corridor Hermione marched upstairs, yawning as exhaustion finally caught up with her. It seemed six hours of sleep a day was not cutting it and she would need to get to sleep pronto or risk drooling on an open book again.

Stepping through her bedroom door, Hermione turned to close it behind her when she was suddenly halted in her steps. Standing before her, at a height of about 6'0, was a cloaked figure with feminine features and yellow eyes. The woman was immensely beautiful; her hair flowing an unnatural red, eyes intoxicating to those who chanced a glance at them, her skin crystal white and appearing smooth to the touch. And yet, most heart rendering of all was what all these things amounted to.

Individually they were beautiful but collectively they were simply breath-taking. In fact, beauty was not a word worthy enough to describe such a creature; this woman had clearly been blessed by a goddess. A well-proportioned body - from what little could be made through the thin layer of fabric which kept her modest - and features which were seductive and yet fierce all at the same time. Could such a woman really exist?

Of course, in this instance, Hermione did not have time to process all this and the only word that was screaming through her mind was 'Danger.' This woman had appeared in her room without even a sound. The house was securely locked and yet this woman had somehow managed to smuggle herself inside without setting off any alarms. There could only be one explanation for such a feat; this woman was clearly no muggle. In fact, if Hermione deduced correctly, from her appearance and strong aura, this woman was no witch either. It was only a stab in the dark but Hermione was almost sure that the woman was a mythical creature of some sort. Which one? She did not know, but whatever she was… she shouldn't have been here.

"W-What?" Hermione murmured, eyes widening as the woman turned her yellow eyes on her.

Staggering backwards, her hands reaching into the pocket of her shorts, Hermione pulled out her wand and rounded on the stranger. But, before Hermione could even utter a single incantation, her hands were swiftly grabbed… the grip forcing her wand to slip through her fingers. The sound of her wand hitting the floorboard awakened Hermione to her predicament; she was being held, defenceless, and now at the mercy of this stranger. Attempting to struggle out of this woman's hold, Hermione could feel the stranger's grip around her wrists falter.

"G-Get off me! Get your hands off me!"

Then, as suddenly as the words had left her mouth, Hermione was pulled against the woman until their bodies were flush against each other. Shocked by this act, and the bountiful breasts pressing against her own developing chest, Hermione stiffened in the hold. Taking advantage of this the woman wrapped her arm around Hermione's shoulders, and her hand fell to her chin. The contact forced Hermione to look up into those beautiful eyes once more, the woman's breath fanning her cheeks while they stared at one another. Hermione's body growing weaker by the second.

They stared over long, deep into each other's eyes before Hermione shook at the change of expression that had come across the woman's features. The woman's previously passive face had turned stern at the flip of a coin, eyes appearing angry although Hermione believed she had no right to be.

…

And then, in a completely unexpected turn of events, the woman leaned forward and captured Hermione's lips in hers. A stranger, someone Hermione had never even heard of before, had taken away her first kiss. And what's more…

…

… Hermione liked it.

…

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Author's Note:

WOW! When I submitted this story I never expected it to receive such an amazing following. Thank you all so much :) I honestly thought it wouldn't receive much interest or attention because there are so many great stories out there already but I was wrong. Well, I'm more than happy to be wrong on this occasion :P I just hope I can continue to impress you in the forthcoming chapters.

I was also happy to see reviewers suggesting characters for inclusion to my story. Daphne Greengrass was mentioned, Tonks, Ginny (Sorry to one of my reviewers but she has to be included in the romance struggle.) and several others too. Very interesting! They will all be considered for inclusion unless they are already one of the eight characters vying for Hermione's affections.

More suggestions for characters would be greatly appreciated. I want to know which character I might have left out but in a way that doesn't reveal the eight most important characters. Also thanks to all my reviewers in general; your comments were very kind and I can't thank you guys and gals enough!

Well, anyway, the next chapter of this story will be up sometime next week I hope. Although, it won't be up as fast as the second chapter of this story. In fact, I wrote and published Chapter 2 of The Succubus a lot earlier than I had expected. The response to the story made it necessary for me to give the fans something to read. I hope this chapter is to your satisfaction and is not too rushed!

Thank you all once again and I hope to hear from you soon :D

Also for fans of this story I would suggest having a look at my other Harry Potter related stories. 'A Serpent's Lament', especially as the plan for the story is my favourite plot wise.


	3. Chapter 3: I have returned!

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 3: I have returned.

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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"Mmm?!" Hermione groaned; eyes glaringly open – eyebrows reaching her fringe - as she stared into the closed eye lids of the stranger. A stranger whose lips were deeply connected to that of Hermione's, the space never growing as the older woman pulled the brunette closer.

… And all Hermione could do was watch in horror.

In all this, Hermione remained stock still; her fingers spread and outstretched while the woman's taste engulfed her mouth. Her arms bristled at the contact; an unpleasant shiver running down her spine as this stranger pressed on further not letting up and kissing deeply. This had to be a dream? No, not a dream, a nightmare! It was the only way to explain this terrible situation. And yet, Hermione felt moistening lips pressing against her with a feverish intensity.

… Her once chaffed lips became soft and malleable to the woman's touch.

… The woman's heavy breathing sending a pleasant tingle down her spine.

And yet this felt wrong! So very wrong!

This wasn't how her first kiss was supposed to be!

…

Hermione was hardly an asexual creature - although she rarely gave the subject consideration in her spare time – so, she had always imagined her first kiss being shared in a romantic setting. Sunset or moonlight; the scene changed on occasion but the kiss remained integral to the piece. Of course, the identity of the person she kissed was always a mystery; not having met a suitable candidate in her early life. But that didn't mean the hope wasn't still there; it had been there since her mother had sat her down on her lap and read stories of princes and princesses.

The kiss was supposed to be special, and now it felt tainted.

This was not how she had envisioned her first kiss. She had never even considered the possibility that her first kiss could be stolen from her, and taken by a woman no less. The fact that her first kiss was taken by a woman didn't trouble Hermione; she was, after all, quite open to the idea. But the fact that it was stolen in the first place; now that not only troubled her but it also enraged her too.

Finally feeling her body jostle back to life, Hermione raised her hands and tried to pull the stranger away by the collar of her neck. This action succeeded at first, the woman's lips detaching with a wet pop, but once her lips were freed the woman busied them again. Her lips now being kissed once again, Hermione groaned her protest and gripped the sleeve of the woman's robe. No effect. The woman was supernaturally strong and easily ignored Hermione's attempts at pulling away.

"W-What are you do…?" Hermione struggled, her lips being followed by the woman's who did not allow for movement or breathing it seemed. Gasping under the scrutiny Hermione yanked her head away… but this act only gave her a moment of respite. Because, with another tug towards her, Hermione fell into the strangers body and her lips became occupied once more.

"S-Stop… Stop it!" Hermione protested, her laboured breathing causing no end of pain. She could hardly breathe; this strange woman was abnormally persistent and did not allow for protests or the simple act of breathing. The heat from the woman's body made Hermione feel uneasy, strange warmth that placated her need to escape. This wasn't normal. Why did she feel like the warmth was drawing her in? The older woman's lip tasting sweeter and sweeter by the second as they easily parted through Hermione's meagre resistance.

Hermione could feel the fight leaving her body, a most strange occurrence as she had proven, more than once, that she not only had Gryffindor courage but also the fortitude to never give up. This wasn't the way Hermione would react. She wouldn't just give in and succumb to the taste of this woman. Some supernatural force was playing with her mind; clouding her judgement and masking her thoughts from view.

This knowledge gave her a new ounce of life, and a desire to distance herself from this woman for not only her protection but for the protection of her virtue too. Pulling back, gasping a shuddering breath, Hermione held the woman at bay but like all times before her resistance proved futile. And with one lick to moisten her sore lips, Hermione could feel the softness envelop her all over again. This stranger took no chances this time and held Hermione's head in place, deepening the kiss with a remarkable dexterity, her tongue parting her lips as Hermione could only grimace.

Squirming in place, Hermione felt the hold around her body tighten, resulting in the stranger's bountiful breasts crashing against her own. A lack of air was beginning to become a concern but the stranger allowed her small moments of respite until she pushed Hermione to the brink all over again. A repetitious and seemingly endless cycle but according to the clock no more than two minutes had passed but to Hermione it must have seemed like hours.

"Enough!" Hermione forced, gasping desperately for what little air she could find. "Get off me! Enough!"

But the woman did not rest and what's more she returned her attention to the delicious prospect of Hermione's lips. Fighting valiantly Hermione pushed against the strangers shoulder and managed to pull her face away, taking deep and hurried breaths as she did so. Unfortunately, the cycle continued anew, and with one hand the stranger pushed the back of Hermione's head and pressed her lips against the brunette once more.

She couldn't escape. No matter how hard she tried, or how often, Hermione could not get away. This realisation was confirmed when Hermione felt saliva run down her chin, whether hers or the strangers Hermione really didn't want to know. The kiss, even to Hermione's traumatised mind, was nice and the woman even more beautiful. A skilled kisser without a doubt and yet this information only made Hermione feel that much worse. She felt sick… physically sick to her stomach but there was no bile to bring forth. Hermione almost wished there was because it might have gotten her away from this revolting experience; she'd have tried anything at this point.

As the woman reconnected their lips once more, the strangers tongue lapping against Hermione's, the latter could only form the basis of questions. Who was this woman? Why was she being kissed so deeply by a complete and utter stranger?

… Why did the woman's presence feel so familiar?

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Suddenly, and with a great force, Hermione was pushed back until her back made contact with the bedroom wall – all questions disappearing in an instant. To her horror, Hermione felt the woman hoist her up in the air, pressing her high against the wall, her feet dangling precariously. The kiss was reignited, the sweet yet utterly displeasing kiss that Hermione was trying desperately to escape. In a moment of sheer panic Hermione bit down hard on the stranger's tongue, which had been rubbing against her gums and the woman only moaned. This moan was not of a pained sort, no, it was far worse, the moan was of a feral nature; pleasure incarnate.

Her tongue now ceased by Hermione's teeth, the stranger pressed her body intimately close to that of the brunette's, their bodies flush against each other. Feeling the fight drain from her body, Hermione succumbed to the exhaustion. Several minutes had passed - seven minutes in total – and the brunette reclined against the stranger, completely at the whims of her assailant. She was motionless but that didn't mean the older woman gave up any ground, oh no, in fact it was quite the opposite. The stranger tightened her hold around Hermione's lower back, the brunette's legs resting either side of her hips, while the woman's tongue inspected the root of her mouth.

In Hermione's comatose state she could feel the woman's every move. When the woman's tongue slid across her front teeth, Hermione felt it. When the woman drew her hips away from Hermione's core, she sensed it. And, when the woman began to caress and rub every pore of her shapely form… Hermione shivered in disgust.

… This wasn't real.

… This couldn't be real.

… It had to be a nightmare.

… She'd wake up soon, alone and afraid but safe.

… Any moment now.

… Any moment…

Her wishes were painfully silenced when the stranger, releasing Hermione's lips - a finger trailing along them one last time – bit into Hermione's lower lip, drawing blood.

The shock jostled Hermione back into consciousness, her senses reawakening to the surreal sensation of the stranger sucked deeply on her bloodied lip. The woman's entire mouth now encased Hermione's lower lip, and every time she tried to pull away it only succeeded in pulling her sore lip to its limit. The stranger refused to let go, she would not let go until she was fully sated.

Now, in a state similar to an out of body experience, Hermione felt the strangers tongue slide across the swollen cut on her lip. The blood matted her chin and that of the strangers too; but the latter did not seem to mind. After licking the cut, as thoroughly as possible, the stranger returned to sucking on Hermione's lower lip, drawing out the blood which was contained within.

Struggling against the strangers hold once more, a feeble attempt to escape going unfounded, Hermione digested this entire situation. She was disgusted, naturally, and horrified by what was happening to her but the kiss made this experience so much worse. In some twisted way, and despite her lip becoming bloodied, the kiss still retained its softness and it wasn't entirely unpleasant. That made the situation even more unpleasant though, her thoughts continued to betray her because deep down she didn't want this. These thoughts weren't her own they felt foreign, as if her mind was being invaded by another presence entirely. She couldn't think straight and any attempt at rational thought seemed to bear no fruit.

Pulling away, the red haired woman held Hermione's chin in her open palm and stared deep into her eyes. Unfamiliar green eyes now stared into mocha brown, and even Hermione couldn't deny the beauty that seemed to pour from this goddess's eyes. She really was beautiful but at this moment Hermione could not have cared less. This woman had taken her first kiss and in some senses her first sexual experience, although the woman had not gone beyond kissing and heavy petting… at least for now.

Meanwhile, noticing the blood on Hermione's chin the stranger drew her tongue out and collected the remaining droplets, savouring the taste to the brunette's horror. Why was she doing this? This thought raced through Hermione's mind but she had little time to deliberate on this matter further.

…

In a slow, almost caring motion, the stranger manoeuvred Hermione's body on top of her bed. The mattress conformed to her feminine shape until she now found herself resting comfortably; her body still, her breathing shallow. Hermione simply stared upwards, into the ceiling, all other forms of communication lost to her as a new sensation swept over her. But what was it? Hermione could not attach a name to this feeling but she could feel it rising from her gut, heating her body.

… What was happening to her?

Once confident that the brunette was comfortable, the stranger sat beside Hermione and leaned over so that they now faced each other. Their breath intermingled, a sweet fragrance intertwined, before the familiar taste of this stranger was upon her again. Hermione struggled at first, instinct demanding that she fight and protect herself at all costs but nothing seemed to work. As the stranger deepened the kiss, a gentle side showing through, Hermione noticed her wand beside her bed and stretched to take it. How it had moved from the floor to the bed was anyone's guess but Hermione didn't question, she was desperate enough to do anything. As her hand fumbled with its edge, flicking the wand further away from her, inadvertently, the stranger caught on and caught Hermione's wrist when she finally grabbed the handle. Taking the wand out of Hermione's reach, the stranger finally spoke for the first time since the unexpected kiss, almost ten minutes ago.

"I have to be sure, please be patient."

The voice was soft and yet aggressive all at the same time. An impossible combination and yet that was the only opinion Hermione could draw from. Once again the voice caused a strange sensation to wash over her; a feeling of security and familiarity. Something she was most certainly not used to considering her only friends; Ron, Harry and Ginny, were the only people she trusted with her life. So, why did she trust this woman when she asked her to be patient?

She would certainly not kiss back, Hermione felt disgusted every time this beautiful creature placed her lips against her but she would endure if need be. As long as things didn't go too far; she would not fight this woman's advances. She… trusted this woman? Yes, for some reason she did and despite the situation Hermione allowed the woman the benefit of the doubt.

Allowing the woman to kiss her Hermione began to feel a sudden rush of fatigue; her eye lids drooped, her breathing became laboured and her body grew weak. A short while later Hermione began to wheeze, the stranger taking note of this and halting the kiss immediately. Hurriedly the stranger held the brunette's face in her hands and returned her gaze to mocha eyes, the woman's features stern and expecting.

"Change!" the woman commanded. "Change! Change! Change!"

Eyes focused on Hermione, the stranger repeated this word like a mantra. Hermione wasn't sure what was being said, it was all white noise to her ears but by the expression on the older woman's face something had happened. Only, what was it? Why did she look so happy, relieved… excited?

"It's true," the stranger murmured, mouth agape. "It really is you!"

Then suddenly, and with what looked like tears in her eyes, the stranger wrapped Hermione in her arms. Hermione, meanwhile, listening to the sounds of the stranger's relief and happiness, was left completely dumbstruck. The woman muttered things, undiscernible things which made no sense to her equally traumatised mind.

"Um," Hermione mumbled, her voice wavering as she opted to converse with this tearful woman. "What's h-happening? W-Who are you?"

Surprised, the older woman leaned back to look at the young brunette. "'What happened?' Didn't you feel it? The temporal shift? The subtle changes in your environment… nothing?"

"I… um,"

"It might just take time," the stranger continued, unaware that she had interrupted the brunette. "The changes will happen. Your eyes proved it."

"My eyes?" Hermione repeated, feeling like a primary schooler taking an exam geared towards High school students. "What about my eyes?"

"They changed, sweetie. Your eyes used to be mocha brown but now they are like mine, look."

Having said this, the woman closed her eyes, and Hermione waited feeling a little unnerved by the spectacle. The woman didn't move, her features set in concentration, and her eyes remaining closed as they fluttered unnaturally. Then when Hermione was about to interrupt, with another question of her own, the stranger's eyes flickered open and what was once green had turned golden once more.

"Do you see," the woman said. "My eyes changed. These eyes that you see here are exactly the same as your eyes now. Don't you see? You are one of us."

"One of you? Are you saying…? No, I'm a muggle-born. You've made a mistake."

Turning serious, the stranger looked towards the locked window before returning her gaze to Hermione. "I'm afraid not. You are one of us; there is no denying that now. I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about? You think you can just barge into my house, shag me and then tell me some ridiculous story, and you think I'll just buy it? Do you even know me? I was conceived by my parents – muggles - and looked after and cared for by them. "

"They are not your real parents. Well, actually one…"

"Rubbish!" Hermione interrupted, fuming as she stared down the older woman. "We look nothing alike and I know who my real parents are. Get out! I will not listen to this any longer!"

"Listen to me! You are one of us and I'll prove it! When we kissed," Ignoring Hermione's grimace, the red head ventured on. "Did you not feel something? A familiarity of sorts? A strange indescribable feeling in your stomach followed by warmth the likes of which you had never felt before."

Stiffening Hermione tried to keep a passive expression. She had felt all those things, in abundance, but, nevertheless, Hermione still refused to cave to this harlot's convoluted story. It was a lie! Everything about her story was a lie!

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You can't fool me little girl," the stranger said, almost menacingly. "Regardless of whether you felt our connection or not, your eyes give you away. A person's eye cannot change colour on their own, you have a unique gift. A gift which is an innate trait passed down through our kind. There's no escaping the truth, you are no mere muggle."

Panicked, Hermione pushed forward with a response. "L-Lies! It's a trick! My eyes haven't changed colour, you're just saying that!"

"Oh, give me strength!" the older woman groaned, grabbing Hermione by the shoulders and positioning her in front of the full length mirror. "You see, your eyes are golden. This is not a trick and I speak no word of a lie. Now would you grow up and behave like an adult, I honestly expected better from you."

Stunned, Hermione stared into her full length mirror and what she saw frightened her to the core. In place of mocha brown eyes was a sharp golden tint overpowering to her eyes alone, the brightness causing Hermione to close her eyes and face away from the mirror. "No," Hermione stuttered, golden eyes scanning her room for anything she could cling on to as her own. "No, I am a muggle. My parents are here and I was born and raised in London. I will not buy into your story. This is magic, isn't it! So, what did you do? Poison my breakfast when I wasn't looking? Am I under a spell? Come on, out with it!"

With a look of disappointment, the red haired goddess responded. "I have cast no spell on you. See, I didn't even come equipped with a wand. And as for drugging you, I am sorry to say that I am inept at potions. I wouldn't know where to even start to brew any such potion; in fact, you'd probably know more about it than me."

"Making a potion isn't that hard, even a novice could procure one."

Laughing at the young girl's desperation, the red haired beauty couldn't deny her urges and without asking for approval Hermione was swept up in a hug. "H-Hey? What are you…?" But Hermione's worry was tampered slightly when the older woman began to gently rock her from side to side.

Her chin resting on the top of Hermione's head, the stranger sighed deeply. "I have done nothing to you, sweetie. I hope, in time, you will understand. Your home is not here in London. But with me, and my clan, you will learn to accept this one day and I look forward to the day you return to us."

"You speak of clans rather than families. You aren't just a witch are you?"

Surprised, the goddess stopped her motions and glanced down at the small girl. "Very astute of you! No, I am not, as you put it, 'just a witch.' I'm not a witch at all, in fact."

"I thought as much."

Smiling, the stranger nudged Hermione to continue. "You sound very sure of yourself. Keep going; let's see if you can figure me out."

"W-What?"

"Go on," the stranger laughed, eyes glowing with… pride? "Impress me."

"Uh, okay!" Hermione mumbled, at a loss for how they had reached this point. Well, it beat being kissed by this woman so Hermione felt more than relieved when she was allowed to venture on. "Well, I can tell, just by gauging my own exhaustion, that you have some sort of ability which incapacitates your victim."

"Possible, but how do you know I'm not just a really good kisser?"

Grimacing at the memory, and the taste of her lips, Hermione replied. "I don't want to even think about that. And you value your skills far too highly; it was not an enjoyable experience."

"If you say so," the stranger said with a teasing glint. "So, keep going. What else do you have for me?"

"Well, through a process of elimination I've managed to narrow down my search to magical creatures alone. More importantly, creatures who are not averse to sex or who are simply incapable of controlling their urges," Ignoring the stranger's quirked eyes brow, Hermione continued. "This left me with a few options, but it was the side effects of the kiss that sold it for me. Dizziness, loss of cognitive functions, loss of strength; these could only mean one thing. You are a succubus."

Mouth hanging open, the stranger could only clap at Hermione's accurate deduction. "I… wow! I heard you were special but I never thought… Yes, you are right, I am a succubus, and as it happens so are you,"

"I am not…"

Silencing Hermione with a finger against her lips, the stranger spoke. "There is no mistake. You are a succubus and do you know how I know this?"

"H-how?"

"Because it was destined. I have been looking for you since the day you were born. And now… here you are! I knew I would find you eventually and my how you have grown. You look just like her?"

Blinking in bewilderment, Hermione responded. "I look like who, exactly?"

"Your mother, silly," the red head replied, chuckling at Hermione's cute expression. "You look just like her, taste just like her. Exquisite!"

Confused, Hermione asked. "I'm sorry but who are you? And what do you mean I taste like my mother!?"

Surprised by Hermione's outburst, the red heads features softened and she tried to cup the brunette's cheek but Hermione pulled away upon contact. This would not be easy, the stranger thought bitterly.

"I see, you haven't been told. Well… this might very well come as a shock to you,"

"I doubt you could do anything more to shock me than you already have!" Hermione piped up, memories of before playing through her mind.

Unconcerned by the young girl's outburst, the stranger continued unabated. "And you have to understand that there is no room for interpretation here. The kiss, the blood… they all confirm what I am about to tell you."

"They confirm what exactly? Spit it out!"

"Hmm, it seems impatience runs in the family." The stranger mused, a sigh leaving her lips as she looked at Hermione.

"Runs in the…? What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid… we are of the same blood."

…

…

"W-what?"

Smiling, leaning forward till their faces were an inch apart the stranger whispered. "That's right, I am your mother. More specifically… your **other** mother."

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Author's Note: Alright, now before you bite my head off and call me a disgusting pervert please understand where I am going with this story. I'm going to try and explain this most recent twist about the succubus being Hermione's mother and the fact that they were kissing not ten minutes before.

Alright… For starters, I think we can all agree on one irrefutable fact; a succubus is an incredibly sexual creature. In fact, in some folklore tales that I dug up, a succubus's mere nature is to feed off the life force that is produced during sex. Feeding off the pheromone's in much the same way humans eat and drink to survive. So, after reading through many succubus related works, I came to realise something about the image they present in the tales. To me it seemed as if a succubus knew no boundaries; there would be no line they would not cross to sate their hunger.

Let me ask you this: Would a succubus deny itself food when it was freely available?

… As a human, would you turn down food if it looked delicious?

No!

So, my answer, in regards to the succubus, would be no because there kind are not concerned by what is morally right or wrong. If they find something they like then they acquire it through any means at their disposal, sometimes through mental suggestion or control. More info on the succubus's powers will be revealed in the next chapter so I can't really talk more about this.

I also thought that the human culture compared to that of a succubus's might be very different. In fact, one of the purposes of 'The Succubus' was to analyse and explore the succubus culture and highlight the differences it possess. My interpretation of their culture may be wrong in your eyes, they don't exist of course but we all have our own opinions on things.

In my opinion, succubus's are not concerned by bloodlines or the status of mother, daughter and sister. They are driven by desire, lust, control, domination; that is how I interpret their kind. Furthermore, Hermione's mother had an entirely different purpose when she was kissing her daughter… I wonder what she was doing? Some of you may have figured it out but I'm interested to see if any of you have :D

Well, apologies for the really poorly written response on my part. I had a defence in my head but when I came to write it, it felt like I was trying to convince myself more then you, the reader. I have a target for this story and before you ask no, Hermione's mother will not be one of the eight pursuers of Hermione. Hermione's mother has been included for one purpose and that purpose has been fulfilled; more on this in future chapters.

Well, anyway, please feel free to write to me about any concerns you have. I will try to alleviate them as best I can and I promise you all… there will be no more incest in this story for those who feel squeamish at the thought. There will still be sex and other equally erotic things, don't you worry I have most certainly got you covered in that department, but those will come in time. Anyway stay safe and I hope you enjoyed Chapter 3 of The Succubus.


	4. Chapter 4: Who am I?

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 4: Who am I?

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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"You're my what?" Hermione shrieked.

"Your mother. Did you not hear me girl?" The Succubus responded, arms crossing below her breast.

"Y-You're… You're my… my mother?"

"That is correct," the woman replied, her voice trailing at Hermione's expression. "Are you okay? You're looking a little pale."

Shocked, eyes gaping, Hermione retreated several paces, staring at the woman who had made such an outlandish declaration. This woman… was her mother? No! This couldn't be happening! The idea was completely absurd! Ludicrous! She already had a mother and a caring and loving mother at that.

Her mother's name was **Ellen Granger**, and she was her one and only mother. It had been Ellen who had supported her throughout her childhood, through the good times and bad… not this woman. It had been Ellen who had allowed Hermione the independence she craved, the opportunity to leave her home to study in the magical world of Hogwarts. This other woman, the one who spoke of a familial bond, was not her mother… could never be her mother.

This woman had never been there through the hard times, had never comforted her when she was bullied in primary school. She had never done the things a mother would do, like her own true mother had. How dare she claim to be something she was not! Ellen Granger was the woman who gave birth to her, the pictures she had seen acting as proof. Hermione did not know this woman, having never even met her before.

Who was this woman?

"W-Who are you?" Hermione stuttered, anger bubbling to the surface.

Confused, the Succubus turned her gaze away from the room she had been inspecting and directed her attention to her daughter. She could see the tension in her daughter's body, her flushed face and her fists clenched till they were were white. What was she up to? Furthermore, what was with this reaction?

"Excuse me?" The succubus replied, calmly but with an edge of impatience.

"Who are you?"

"Like I said before… I am you're…"

"WHO ARE YOU!?" Hermione screamed, her facial features becoming jagged and angry.

Unconcerned, the Succubus crossed her arms below her chest once again and stared at Hermione. The woman did not speak for some time, merely looking at Hermione, eye to eye. Neither flinched, Hermione's eyes were burning with a hatred unmatched but they did little to dissuade the Succubus who did not look perturbed in the least. She looked almost amused, in her own element if such a thing could exist.

"I am your mother!" The woman stated before her features hardened. "And a word of warning; I do not like repeating myself. If you ask me this again then I will lose my patience with you. You do not want that."

"You're not my mother!" Hermione spat back, the gold tint in her eyes growing darker.

"I am your mother, and what's more I have grown tired of your attitude, now," The Succubus murmured, a hand aloft. "Sit and be quiet."

"I will not…"

Then, before Hermione could muster another word in defiance, her legs suddenly buckled and she fell against her bedroom floor. Surprised, Hermione looked up and watched as the stranger turned away from her and returned her attention to gaze upon her room once more. Taking in the environment where her daughter had lived, slept and dreamed for (age) wonderful years.

"Sit silently and do not move from that spot. As much as I have missed you, dear daughter of mine, I would rather not hear you speak for a moment."

"What makes you think I'll do as you say?" Hermione stuttered, struggling against some invisible barrier that pressed down against her lips.

"You don't really have much choice in the matter, do you? I am your mother and because of that I hold power over you," The Succubus turned back to face Hermione, eyes pierced at the unexpected response her daughter had given. Surely she knew! Her daughter, Hermione Granger, the supposed smartest witch of her age, must have known about their bond.

Looking closely - their faces centre metres apart - it didn't take long for the Succubus to recognize the confusion which appeared on her daughter's face. And with this knowledge firmly lodged in her mind, a smile slowly spread to her luscious lips and laughter echoed from her opened mouth.

"You- You don't even know, do you? About our connection? Nothing?" The woman said, laughing so hard that she clutched at her stomach to quell the tension. "Oh my little sweetie, it's quite simple. If I truly wished it I could control your every action, like a puppet on a string. I could make you dance to my tune if I so desired. But do not worry… I have no wish to control something so beautiful."

"You don't control me! What are you talking about?"

"I'm afraid I can control you. In fact, I could decide every action you make, control your every thought if I so wished it. I could make you do anything I wished, all because I have power over you."

"What power?"

"Why, our bond of course. My power over you comes from our bond. It is an innate trait among our people," The Succubus said, a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "To ensure the safety of our children we have the ability to manipulate their cognitive functions. This connection only works one way though. Only a mother can control their daughter, it doesn't work the other way around."

"Why would you control your own kind?"

"Our kind, darling, our kind," The Succubus reminded, tapping Hermione's nose which every uttered word. "And I wouldn't call it control, more like mental suggestion. You see our kind are born and bred with certain cravings and these craving often lead us down a much too dangerous path. So, we adapted, we forced change where none would be had for many years."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean, dear one, is that we couldn't wait for evolution to catch up. If we waited, our kind would have died out many years ago. So, to avoid this unpleasant ending, we created a doctrine that has since become law among our kind. We exist for one single purpose, now, and do you know what that is?"

"Copulation?"

Laughing, a modest and yet beautiful sound issuing forth, the Succubus returned her gaze to Hermione. Lost in the moment, and the beauty of her daughter's eyes, the Succubus caressed the brunette's cheeks with her thumb, the touch feather light and almost loving. Hermione too, almost lost herself in the moment but she was awakened by the older woman's voice once more.

"No, silly. We exist to survive… our one single purpose in life is to survive, and by any means necessary. We groom our young to continue this tradition but for this to be accomplished many of our young must be… tamed first."

"Tamed?"

"Yes, unfortunately our young have a harder time controlling their impulses and often fall pray to their desires. We have lost many. Too many…"

"But I have no such desires. I've never felt anything like that before. So how could I be a Succubus?" Hermione said, her breath hitching as the woman knelt before her, her legs going either side of hers till the Succubus was, effectively, straddling her.

Smiling, her arms going around Hermione's neck, the Succubus continued. "You never fell prey to you desires because… well, you never had any."

"What?"

"You're a halfblooded Succubus, sweetie. There are certain drawbacks and this just happens to be one of them."

"Stop talking in riddles. I can't understand if you don't explain things to me."

Laughing, the Succubus leaned forward and breathed in Hermione's fragrance… the familiarity washing over her, calming her. "Fine then! I will explain everything to you, honey."

"A halfblooded Succubus cannot feel love, it simply can't. I wouldn't call it an emotionless husk because it can feel pain and joy, just as any human can, but it cannot feel amorous love. That part is cut off from the half-blood because of the mixture of blood in their veins," The Succubus remarked, sighing at the confusion written on Hermione's face. "A half-blood can only exist… unless awakened it can never truly love."

"Awakened? What is that?"

"The awakening? It's a very sacred ritual amongst our kind. So scared that only high ranking officials can obtain such a thing. Through the awakening a Succubus can claim ownership of a half-blood they have sired, and awaken the blood that lays dormant within them. This way the half-blooded would become like us, just without any of the drawbacks attached."

Snuggling closer to Hermione, the Succubus kissed the top of her head and smoothed the loose strands of hair which popped up. It was a very loving motion, that of a mother caressing their child but to Hermione it was sickening. The woman's close proximity was strangely disorientating, the feel of her skin burning to the finger tips.

Noticing Hermione's lack of movement, the Succubus looked down and moved a little off her lap. "Sweetie? What's wrong? You haven't asked me a question in the last three seconds. Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine," Hermione snapped, pushing the woman's hand away. "And don't call me sweetie!"

"Then what should I call you?"

"Nothing! I don't want to talk to you anymore. Just leave!"

Sighing, the Succubus wrapped her arms around Hermione and lifted her from the floor. Feet unable to support her body, Hermione was dragged towards her bed and placed carefully on top of it. To say Hermione was light would have been an understatement but the woman did not complain, her kind were known for being unusually light and freakishly strong.

As Hermione rested on the bed, eyes beginning to droop, her comfort was interrupted when she felt the bed conform to a new presence. Directly beside her, and in a silent motion, the Succubus sat on the edge of the bed before quietly stroking her hair, smiling as she did so. The feeling of being cared for was not bad. In fact it was quite nice. The soft trail of the woman's fingertips across her skin was calming, when she stroked her cheek she smiled unexpectedly, what was this feeling?

Whatever this feeling was Hermione liked it and her will to fight drained away because of it, the sounds of her breathing the only thing to reach her ears. "I'm afraid I can't leave you, sweetie. To leave you now would do us both a disservice. I have much to tell you… much to teach you of our kind and you must know it all if you are to survive the change."

"What do you mean? What change?"

"You've been awakened, my dear. I have performed the ritual and now your blood is beginning to awaken. You will become like me… soon."

"W-What!?" Hermione shouted, her daze now completely forgotten as she shot up from the bed. "What do you mean I've been awakened!? When? How?"

"Please, stay calm, now, sweetie. Control is something you will have to learn early. It is an important part of surviving the awakening and I'd much rather not lose my only child."

"I am not your child!"

Exasperated, The Succubus sighed. "Unbelievable. You still don't believe me. Never mind, you will come to believe me in time. But that is not important, right now. You wanted to know about the awakening, right?"

"Yes."

"About what it entails and so on?"

"Yes!"

"Alright, I'll explain everything, but you have to trust me." Having said that the Succubus rolled up her sleeves, looked back at Hermione in pause, and then without another moment's hesitation, dug her nails deep into her skin.

"W-What are you doing?"

Stunned, Hermione grimaced as she watched the older woman grind her nails deeper and further into her skin. The sounds of blood gushing down her arm, sickening to the ear. What was perhaps more uncomfortable though was the Succubus's reaction, or non-reaction in this case. Despite the pain which should have surely been present, the Succubus showed no sign of discomfort.

When the sounds of blood ceased, and the horror in Hermione's expression subsided, the Succubus wiped off her blood stained finger on her sleeve. Noticing the gaping hole in her arm Hermione almost lurched, it was horrible, what the hell was this woman doing? However, before Hermione could battle against the sick rising in her throat, the Succubus turned towards her and snatched her arm, bringing it towards her.

… Then, with a look of remorse, the Succubus plunged her nails into the brunette's skin and Hermione's mouth opened in a scream.

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Screaming, the feel of the Succubus's nails penetrating her skin, Hermione stilled. Mumbling in fear, her eyes widening and mouth whimpering, Hermione looked away from the ceiling and brought her eyes back to her arm. This wasn't right, this wasn't natural. What the hell was going on? Why wasn't there…

Startled, Hermione put her hand on top of the Succubus's. Noticing this the woman stopped her movements and looked back at her daughter, whose eyes were larger than they had ever been. Silence passed between them, only ever interrupted by the sounds of blood dampening the carpet.

"Why is there no pain?"

"There wouldn't be any, not for now, at least," Turning, the Succubus dragged her finger through the blood as she spoke. "For the next few months you will be unable to feel physical pain. The transformation is beginning to take effect but that's not why I opened your arm, look down at the floor."

Following her command Hermione looked down at the floor and saw something that was truly out of this world. The blood was burning? The blood, a liquid… was burning! How was this possible?

Almost on cue the Succubus answered her question without even a glance in her direction, this all seemed mundane to her. "Your blood has reacted to my taste and now the blood that once lay dormant has come to life. This can only be achieved when a mother awakens their daughter. Our blood has become one and in time you will become like us, a Succubus."

"No! I-I'm not…" Hermione stuttered, her voice losing its usual defiance.

"If you do not believe me then read up on my kind. It will clear your mind of any confusion," Returning her attention to the blood, which still burned, The Succubus continued. "The clearest way to find out about your parenthood is through this method. If your blood had not been engulfed by flame then you would not have been my daughter. But as you can see our blood reacted instantly upon contact, the evidence is undeniable… you are my daughter."

"This proves nothing!" Hermione screamed, wrenching her arm from the Succubus's hand. "How does that prove anything!? Our blood was set alight, what the hell does that have to do with me being your daughter!? I am not your daughter!"

"I can understand your confusion, girl," The Succubus replied, her hands tightening. "But do not question our ways. We are different to your kind, to you humans. We have other customs and traditions which would seem alien to you. Our blood, for example, reacts if mixed with that of our children or relatives. I don't know why but it just does. It may seem strange but know that your ways are as foreign to us as ours are to you."

"But it makes no sense."

"I know, my sweet," The Succubus replied, nestling Hermione's head against her chest. "Perhaps, you can find answers in the books you so love; maybe you will find answers there. I know you want to learn more about of my kind but - I'm afraid - that this will have to be a conversation for another time. I did not come here to discuss my people. I came to you for two reasons; One, to complete the ritual, which I have done, and two, to deliver a warning."

"A warning?" Hermione mumbled, her previous exhaustion now a thing of the past. "Am I in danger?"

"In a matter of speaking, yes. With the awakening comes danger but not of a physical kind. There will be no monsters out to get you, no boogie man hiding under your bed every night. But that doesn't mean this danger is no less real." The Succubus replied, rubbing her bottom lip in contemplation.

"What is it? Why do you look so scared?"

"I'm scared because I don't want to lose you. It took me sixteen years to find you and I don't want to lose you ever again, or be the cause of your death. I'm going to protect you as best as I can but the majority of this will come down on your shoulders. You will have to fight against urges you have never felt before, control both your conscious actions and unconscious ones. There is a lot I must teach you but not all can be taught in one night."

Looking wistful, the Succubus cuddled closer to Hermione and kissed the top of her head. "In two weeks your trials will begin. The ritual I performed tonight has only started the change in your blood. In two weeks your whole life will change, as will you," Noticing Hermione's concerned features, she elaborated. "You will still be you only there will be different voices vying for dominance in your brain, attempting to implant suggestion and indoctrinate you to a particular way of thinking."

"And… what happens if I can't control this other voice?"

"Then you will become a slave to its whims. You will hunger for sex and the pheromones we excrete by doing so… And in time… I will be called upon to end your suffering. It is a mother's duty to kill a daughter who falls prey to their desires; it is punishment for our failures. If we cannot guide our children then we must bear the burden of ending the life of what we hold most precious."

"…"

Hermione could not say a thing. What was there to say? If this woman spoke the truth - and as much as she hated to admit it her arguments were sounding more plausible by the second – then she really was this woman's daughter. What happiness could be found in that knowledge? She was daughter to a mother who had abandoned her and then returned only to bring with her death and misery. How was this fair?

"I-I…" Hermione mumbled, her thoughts clouded by doubt and confusion. "I still don't understand."

"Understand what, love?"

"How I became a Succubus. You spoke of a ritual but I don't remember you saying any incantation."

"That's because this ritual has no words. Do you really want to know? It is not overly important considering the situation."

"No… I-I want to know."

"Fine then, sweetie, I'll tell you," The Succubus replied, ending her tirade of kisses on top of Hermione's head. "A half-blooded Succubus can only be awakened by their mother. We are a female only race but for some reason we cannot mate with males from other species. We can only mate with women, are only attracted to women."

"Stop going off topic! Just answer my question."

"I'm giving you some background, love. It never hurts to have a better understanding of our kind," The Succubus laughed, amused that her daughter was still so lively despite the overwhelming situation. "Simply put a mother must infect their daughter's human tissue with both blood and saliva. The safest way to do this is by kissing but the process takes a lot longer this way. You might not have noticed but while we were kissing before I bit into you lip but only after I had bitten into mine. My blood seeped into your open wound and after that point the ritual was complete."

"So, that's why you kissed me. That was my first kiss, you know! Why would you do that!?"

"I kissed you for many reason. One was for the purposes of the ritual, another was because of how closely you resembled Ellen and… well, you looked too delicious to pass up. Your taste is intoxicating; I have to fight my desire to kiss you even now."

"B-But you said I was your daughter!? That's sick! Why would you want to kiss your own daughter!?"

Laughing, The Succubus continued. "Because, unlike you humans, incest is not frowned upon by our kind. I wouldn't say we welcome it, as there are few benefits to mating within others our own kind but it is not out of the question. I have known of many families who breed from within but you do not have to worry. That will not happen with us. I have no wish to control you. I want you to be free to live your life."

"How can I be free to live my life when you infected me with this… affliction!?"

"Becoming a Succubus is not an affliction, sweetie .In fact, for most half-bloods, it is seen as completion. You cannot even fathom the wonders our kind possess. And you will come to know of them too, in time. If you survive the change and don't succumb to the Succubus's wants, of course."

"What do you mean by the Succubus's wants? I thought I was already a Succubus?"

"It's hard to explain, honey. You are right but you are also wrong. I think it would be better to say that the Succubus is an entity all of its own."

"What do you mean?"

Sighing, uneasy with this line of questioning, the Succubus elaborated. "The ritual that we performed has awakened the Succubus within you. You see, this entity has always been a part of you but has lied dormant, conscious but unable to influence your thoughts or feelings. It can now! The Succubus will now co-exist alongside your human soul and seek to crush what little restraint you have left."

"How will it be able to do this?" Hermione asked, confusion still etched across her face despite the woman's explanation.

"Simple. You will hear two distinct voices, once the Succubus has achieved full consciousness; one your own and the other taking the form of many. You will have to distinguish between which one to listen to because they will all sound alike but some might have ulterior motives all of their own," Laughing, the Succubus continued. "We Succubi are complex creatures but in time I'm sure you will come to understand us."

"How can I not know my own thoughts? This is ridiculous! You are trying to scare me with little to back it up!"

"Oh, no," The Succubus muttered, suddenly sounding very serious and very worried. "Oh, no, no, no, no! Do not act like this! You have no idea what you are up against! This Succubus will seek to control you; you would be its play thing, seeking every sexual encounter for the hope of getting a high. You would become a junky, plain and simple. Do not underestimate this threat! I'm being fucking serious!"

"…"

Shocked, Hermione could say nothing. The older woman looked desperate, her hands clawing at her own. She was scared? Why would she be scared when her own welfare that was not in danger?

"Listen… Hermione," The Succubus said, using her name for the first time. "I know you doubt me but please! Whatever you do, do not underestimate the danger you are in."

"What danger? How can a voice possibly place me in danger?"

"Hermione… listen to me. Please listen because I don't have a lot of time left!" The Succubus said, hand gripping her forearm. "In two weeks your life will be over and your struggle shall begin. The previous life you led will be nothing more than a forgotten memory."

"The Succubus will be subtle at first, you might not even realise it is there. But it is! The creature is clever and will want to get an idea of how you operate."

"What do you mean?"

"The Succubus will not be able to sink into your memories. It will see through your eyes and feel your thoughts but it will not remember what happened when you slumbered. It has no idea who you are and will patiently watch to find you weak points. Only then will it test your boundaries and see how susceptible you are to every other woman you meet."

"Does it have to be women?"

"Yes, the Succubus will only be interested in women, as will you," The Succubus answered, a little annoyed at being interrupted. "Like I was saying. The women around you will feel the Succubus's thrall and only the ones who are attracted to you will be drawn in by it. The Succubus is looking for an appropriate mate and until it finds what it is looking for… it will drive the other women insane. They will hunger for you, desire you but the process will be gradual. You must protect everything you hold dear, Hermione; your life, your thoughts and even your virtue."

"Wait? The Succubus is looking for a mate!"

"Yes and an appropriate one at that. Once it has found a mate, someone the Succubus would consider its sole mate; the creature will direct all its attention on her. This is the difficult part, however. The mate, that the Succubus has chosen, will be unaffected by its thrall. It would be up to you to capture her and make her fall in love with you. But remember! You have a say in things, if you do not feel the same way as the Succubus then you can fight it."

"B-But… What if I can't?"

"You can! Remember, unless you succumb to its wishes, the Succubus will have no power over you. It cannot control your body without your permission. It can only make suggestions, plant information which you will stumble upon and consider your own."

"So I can win!"

"Yes but it will not be easy. The Succubus will stop at nothing to acquire its sole mate. It will focus all its attention on her, for the rest of your life. Unless… you defeat it!" Hermione eyebrow arched at this, how could she defeat something that would persist for years to come? It was impossible. The thought of battling against a threat for years upon years felt exhausting. And it hadn't even started yet.

"Hermione! You can tame the Succubus and make it conform to your way of thinking. It will take time but this process will happen naturally on its own. If you can battle your desires for a year then you will have won."

"How can I assure victory?"

"You must protect your virginity and that of the other girls you face for at least a year. You will not be able to avoid sexual encounters as they will happen, I assure you. But do not allow them to penetrate you. If they succeed in this then you have lost. And whatever you do, do not penetrate them. If you deflower someone then you would have lost also. After that point you will crave sex so whatever you do… fight your impulses!"

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Noticing the blood that stained Hermione's lip, the Succubus leaned down to clean it with her thumb but stopped upon noticing something on her hand. Eyes widening, the Succubus retreated from Hermione and her fingers jerked unnaturally. It was almost as if… the Succubus was in pain.

"I have to go!" She suddenly shouted, covering her hand as she backed away from her daughter.

"Wh-What? Why!?" Hermione asked, startled.

"This is something I will explain in time but I really have to go. Goodbye, my baby!"

To Hermione's surprise, her body moved to follow and she caught the woman before she could leap out of the bedroom window. A hand tugging on the older woman's sleeve, the Succubus turned around and looked back at Hermione. This was her last chance! Hermione had to know, this woman was apparently significant in her life. So, how could she not know…?

…

"Wait! W-What's your name!?"

Smiling the woman turned to face her. "Rose. My name is Rose. I will see you again, Hermione. Stay safe and remember if you ever have need of me… just call for me."

And with that… she was gone.

The mother Hermione had never known was lost in the darkness once more.

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Author's Note: Apologies for the last bit being rushed but it looks like my writing duties will be put on hold for a week or two. I wanted to get something updated because of your wonderful support so I wrote this in a day. I hope it's good because I haven't the time to proof read, I'll be looking after a very heavily pregnant woman for the next few months so I have will have to juggle a lot of commitments. Before you get any ideas no, the baby is not mine. The pregnant woman is a childhood friend and I have offered to help her out because I live so close.

Well, anyway I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I would love to hear your thoughts as always. It is, of course, not compulsory, so don't feel like you absolutely have to :D

All the best to you all and stay safe.

(P.S. If there is anyone out there who would like to beta read this story then I would gladly welcome your assistance. I have some areas that I need to improve in and often find a second set of eyes can offer me that improvement that I so desperately need.)


	5. Chapter 5: Consciousness

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 5: Consciousness

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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**Authors Note: Please read the final authors note after this chapter as it has some important information concerning the future of this story etc. Make sure to read it afterwards though because there is a spoiler directly above it.**

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"Oh! My! God!" A second year Ravenclaw girl whispered, her friends giggling in excitement.

"You got Chloe Roberts! No fair! She's a rare card too…"

"I know, right!" The same girl sniggered, holding the card close to her heart and away from prying eyes.

Having seen this overly protective act, her friends immediately narrowed their eyes and looked at one another. It was almost like looking through a mirror as all the girls carried the same scowl, the same posture… and even the same emotion, jealousy. They were all jealous of their friend because, against all the odds, she had managed to obtain one of the rarest Chocolate frog cards in existence. Luck didn't even cover it, especially when it concerned the renowned Chloe Roberts, one of the greatest witches of her generation.

"You're so lucky!"

"I know, right. I can't believe my luck. She's my fuc… I mean, she's my hero. My freaking role model!"

"How is this fair?"

"Who knows?" the girl replied, glancing down at the card and at the gentle and utterly female features which stared back at her. "But I'm not complaining. She's amazing, so, annoyingly beautiful that it is not even fair! The total package!"

Scowling, one of the girls crossed her arms in response. "Alright we get it, already. No need to rub it in. She's our role model too, you know."

"Sorry," the girl said, suddenly doubling back on her previous ecstasy. "It's just… I can't even begin to explain it. She's considered one of the five greatest witches and wizards of our age, and of any age really. And to think… I got her card. I got one of the famous five."

Scratching the back of her neck, the jealous friend from before suddenly shifted nervously. "I know this might be a long shot, but would you consider parting with Chloe Roberts in exchange for Albus Dumbledore, Salazar Slytherin and… Harry Potter?"

Laughing, the young Ravenclaw tutted rhythmically, wagging her finger in the face of her closest friend. "Na ah! I know Albus Dumbledore is one of the five but you can get his card without even trying, I mean I picked one up off the floor a couple of weeks ago. And, as for Harry Potter; why would I want his card when I can see the real thing? He's much more flattering in person."

"Ha, like you'd know," another friend piped in, reddening at the mention of the boy who lived. "You can't even string two words together when he's around."

"Can too!"

"Guys," the jealous Ravenclaw friend moaned. "I don't care about Harry Potter at the moment. I've been collecting these cards for the last year, hoping to get Chloe Roberts and that is no longer possible. Will you not agree to anything?"

…

In the dim of students - segregated into the all too familiar sea of; reds, greens, yellows and blues - Hermione glanced at this small group in pause. She had already grown used to the giggling, the never ending gossip which seemed to emanate from the younger students of her school, but this time she took notice. Her back iron rode straight, her eyes flicking from one girl to the next.

The reason why Hermione was so attentive had nothing to do with the subject of their conversation, or even the nature of it. Instead it was far more peculiar than that, and in Hermione's mind, far more troubling. You see, the girls, who were now whispering quietly to one another, were on the other end of the train station. They were quite a healthy few yards away, in fact. Far from the ears of strangers and undesirables who, in the girl's minds, were quite possible lurking nearby.

How was such a feat possible…?

No mere mortal could listen in on a conversation that was taking place, literally, a mile away.

No human being could possess such a skill, regardless of whether they were born muggle or wizard.

So, then, how could Hermione hear their every word…?

How could she hear through the rasping wind which left cloaks dishevelled and hair unkempt?

How could she hear through the din of other voices, amplified yet separated to allow recognition of each individual voice?

?

The answer was simple…

… The 'awakening' had already begun to change her.

Hermione could feel it in her veins, her blood pumping at a rate of knots the likes of which she had never felt before. The feeling was incomparable. She had never felt like this, not even during her skirmishes with the Dark lord and his followers had her heart pumped so enthusiastically. Never. Nothing could have prepared her for the dizzying sensations which came with becoming a fully-fledged Succubus. Even the blood inside her veins had changed. Now, her body ached and itched as the blood became white hot underneath every surface of her skin. The scratch marks along her arms where further evidence of this.

The change had caused Hermione great discomfort initially, despite Rose's insistence that she would feel no pain for months. But thankfully, with the passage of time, the pain ebbed away to be replaced with a new level of consciousness the likes of which she had never seen, documented or otherwise.

Now, all of a sudden, Hermione's senses had heightened. Her eyes sight, for instance, had improved. She could now see with far greater clarity and comprehend information at a sub conscious level, meaning her capacity to retain knowledge had increased beyond the limits of human capabilities. Hermione's brain could now operate at far greater velocity too; decreasing reaction and response time with incredible effect.

Hermione's field of vision was magnified also, so that when her pupils dilated Hermione could identify an object from far away. It was a skill she had to master at first, as her pupils would change erratically without her approval, causing many an accident, but eventually she succeeded in this too. There were many situations such as this, where the learning curve would be too steep for Hermione to initially control. Her sense of smell being the main one she struggled with, and occasionally still struggled with.

Early on Hermione knew that this would be a problem. The morning after she had been 'awakened' by Rose, her other mother, Hermione felt sick to her stomach. A putrid smell of unknown origin appeared strong in the house. So strong that Hermione went in search of it, desperate to locate and nullify whatever was causing such a stench, but she found nothing. The smell only ceased when she closed the top window near her bedroom, which was directly above the garbage which would have to be collected tomorrow.

In time though, and with great difficulty, Hermione had started to master this sense until it was becoming far less of a problem. In fact, if Hermione discerned correctly, her sense of smell had returned to the level normally preserved for humans. The stench that wafted from the garbage was negligible at best, and the smell of her mother's cooking still remained as welcoming as before. There were still occasions when her sense of smell heightened, for what reasons Hermione was not sure, but they were becoming few and far between.

As evidenced in the Hogwarts train station, platform 9 ¾, Hermione's auditory field had also increased far beyond normal. She could still hear conversations taking place behind the barrier she had entered from King Cross station, as insane as that might sound. And, while this would have driven anyone to the point of madness, Hermione could easily sort through it all.

How was this possible…?

Well, it was an involuntary act on her part, she did not close her eyes and wade through the noises herself, something was deciphering all of it for her. There were hundreds of speech patterns and conversations taking place, which needed to be processed, and yet it was all done so easily. She could listen to ten, twenty… a hundred conversations at once and not suffer a nose bleed. She could have recited every word they uttered and only get a handful of conversations wrong.

Impossible, you might say.

… Unrealistic. A Childish fancy.

… Well, not on this occasion.

…

On this occasion it was all very real and, in some cases, very, very scary.

…

Hermione had changed, far beyond the expectations of her (human) family, her friends and even the teachers that waited at Hogwarts castle. No one had expected this, not even the great Albus Dumbledore. There was no plan and no contingency in the event of the first plan failing. Hermione was supposed to be the kind, loving bookworm and now she had changed.

And, this begged the question…

Who was Hermione Granger?

…

In all senses of the word, Hermione was… more than that of a human being, and yet more than that of a Succubus.

… She was unique.

… Special.

… The last hope for a species whose kind were dying out.

…

She was all of these things…

But most importantly of all… She was still Hermione Granger.

The book loving, gentle and caring… Hermione Granger.

That was the one thing that did not change, that would never change. Not if she had anything to say about it!

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Allowing her mind to wander - the flock of students carefully avoiding the valued member of the 'Golden Trio' – Hermione looked back at the group of girls. They were all relatively young, around the ages of twelve and thirteen, and yet there were clear signs of exhaustion. It was something Hermione would not have noticed before, having been more familiar with books then other people. But ever since the 'awakening' Hermione had grown more intuitive, especially when it concerned the behaviour of the people around her. This was something that used to come as a hindrance to her but now, without even trying, Hermione could pick up on even the smallest of visual cues.

It was not something she looked out for; she just… noticed these things. These signs could be obvious or subtle but Hermione's eye caught every last one. She could catch the smallest of quakes in a girl's voice, and even the smallest of movements; a protective hand held against an elbow, a scraping of teeth across a sore lip, the nervous shifting of eyes. Nothing escaped Hermione's notice, even the things she rather wished she hadn't seen.

In a matter of days Hermione had acquired knowledge which would have taken the best part of one's childhood to attain, and for once… she hadn't earned it. It was a strange feeling for Hermione, to have acquired something incredible without putting in the hard work. She didn't like it but she could not avoid it. It was an innate trait among the Succubi, having the ability to read body language – as well as physiological changes in the body – and it had proven most useful for creatures of a seductive nature.

However, there was one really telling problem that had been worrying Hermione for a number of weeks and it was beginning to rear its ugly head yet again. All of these… talents of hers seemed to be directed towards one gender, and one gender only; women. Hermione's skill had no effect on men, in fact, as she looked at a gaggle of them talking nearby, she felt rather disgusted. It was not their fault, as they had done nothing wrong, but men just didn't seem to measure up anymore. Suddenly, and without any prior warning, Hermione had started to view women in an affectionate and romantic light.

Her previous and fleeting crush on Ron – if you could even call it that - was nothing compared to the comfort she felt when surrounded by women. It was insane! This sudden revelation had turned her world upside down, and certain urges she had never felt were now becoming more exceedingly apparent. Women were just… it. There were no alternatives anymore. It had to be a woman, although which woman Hermione could not say.

Turning to gaze at the young Ravenclaw's again, her face tinted red and heat pulsating through her body, Hermione felt the stares press on her again. It wasn't unusual to be stared at so intently, she was a member of the famous 'Golden Trio' after all, but it was the nature of the stares that made her feel so uncomfortable. Eyes seemed to gravitate towards her, hungry eyes which only ever ended when Hermione caught wind of them. Students of her year, both young and old, couldn't keep their eyes off her.

To all the members of the female population; Hermione Granger was suddenly… desirable.

That was it! All of the eyes which preyed on her were coming from women, not a single male eye turned to look her way. It was almost like Hermione was sending off strange lesbian pheromones which had the power to entice women and, as a by-product, ward off men. Perhaps that was it. Rose, as she now called her Succubus mother, had talked about changes but had never gone into detail. Could this be one of the benefits of having Succubus blood?

Wait? Could this even be considered a benefit…?

…

As if infatuated by the sight of the Ravenclaw girls Hermione turned to face them yet again, a smile gracing her lips when she saw the happiness on the cutest ones face. They were so adorable and for once there was no feeling of attraction, it was as if the human part of her brain had fought against the Succubus. She had no interest in girls of the younger variety; they had to be close to her age by a year or two, otherwise there was just no interest. Hermione was thankful of that because it was proof that the human side of her was still very much alive, and that there was more to her then the Succubus blood that flowed through her veins.

'_They all look so happy,'_Hermione thought, crossing her arms and watching the group. _'I wonder how long that will last. When the war comes, when Lord Voldemort reappears, will they look so… _**Delicious!**'

Startled, Hermione gasped aloud, a hand flying to her mouth as a stray and intrusive thought pierced through her conscience. What the hell was that! That was not what she had been thinking of, where the hell did that come from? Turning to look around her, Hermione sought after the voice, refusing to believe the voice had come from her own thoughts.

'_I didn't mean that… I meant happy, happy! Why the hell would I say that!? I would never say that! They're too young and it is just plain __**HOT…**__No it's wrong, it's plain fucking wrong!'_

Blinking, horrified by these repulsive thoughts Hermione tried to silence this stray yet weak voice. It was a strange voice, one which closely mirrored her own and yet felt utterly foreign. She felt sick; the voice in her head was implying things which went against everything she stood for. To touch a child, whether in a position of authority or not, was wrong, just plain sick and wrong. Those were the kinds of people who should burn in hell, and she was most certainly not one of them. Hermione was the most loving and caring person you could ever hope to know, not a dislikeable bone to be found. So, you could, perhaps, understand why this suggestion was causing her something akin to mental anguish.

…

Returning to her thoughts, in attempts to alleviate her moral conscience, Hermione battled against the intrusive voice.

'_They are not delicious or hot. They are children! Young, impressionable children! You're supposed to look after them, support them but never take advantage of them. To do otherwise is…'_

'_**Haha… young… hungry… why?...here?'**_

'_W-What?'_

'_**Feed… tired…No…Here?'**_

Puzzled, Hermione stayed quiet listening to the voice which sounded oddly strained. It was as if the voice had just woken up, barely conscience. Murmuring the word under her breath, Hermione was unprepared when her eyes began to dilate and a white heat spread down her throat. Something was wrong, the control she had once had over her powers was suddenly waning. Without even intending to, Hermione's eyes gravitated towards the female students that surrounded her, her gaze locking onto skirts, breasts and lips without her approval.

"S-Stop it!" Hermione whispered, attempting to close her eyes but bristling when the attempt caused her eye lids to burn.

'_**Why?... You?… Are… Taste…'**_

'_What's happening? What the hell is going on?'_

It was at this moment when mocha brown eyes turned golden, lips which were previously chaffed became suddenly plump and inviting and a figure which was slight and dainty became wonderfully mature. And this all happened in the span of thirty seconds, right under the noses of the students that chatted amongst themselves. No one seemed to realise what was happening, despite Hermione's staggering and cursing. It was almost like a veil of invisibility had been dropped around her because no eyes watched her, nobody seemed even remotely aware of her presence.

Coughing and spluttering, a hand gripping her throat, Hermione grimaced as saliva began to drip to the floor. The sensation that coursed through her body was unbelievable. Heat, which seemed to be generated from her very being, had begun to spread to all corners of her body, a body that she was not familiar with. The changes were subtle and would not be enough to draw attention, due to the baggy nature of the school clothes, but Hermione definitely felt it, and it was an unwelcome change.

'_W-what is this!? Is this the Succubus? Has it woken up!?'_

'_**Tired…Need?... No… Desire…Time…'**_

'_Shut up!' _Hermione moaned, eyes shifting from mocha to golden behind her closed lids.

Suddenly the veil seemed to break of its own accord, eyes suddenly turning to watch her, concern and worry evident on their features. Realising this Hermione quickly regained her posture, a small grimace evident on the corner of her lip which went unnoticed by the student body. Despite this Hermione was kind enough to offer them a smile followed by a fake cough to further ward of this new found attention.

"Sorry, I have a cold. Don't mind me." Hermione smiled, waving away the concern from a cute Gryffindor third year who she had helped with school work and the like.

…

Meanwhile however, within the loud and bustling train station, Hermione attempted to appear composed and undaunted to her troubles while the transformation began to slowly ravage her body. Everyone seemed to buy it, and none battered an eye lid when she started to cough relentlessly, but inside everything had turned to chaos. And yet, mercilessly, the attention she had been receiving from the woman in the station only happened to increase as more came through the barrier from King Cross station. Students, parents and others of the female variety were becoming enamoured by the mere sight of her, men uninterested and unaware of the tension in the station.

'_Go away!'_ Hermione screamed internally, rolling her head a little and still attempting to keep her eyes closed and her face passive. _'Why won't you go away!? It is too soon! You weren't supposed to wake for two weeks!'_

'_**Tired…Sleep… Not… Time...'**_

'_Then go to __**Sleep…**__And leave me alone! __**Hunger…**__Stop it! Why won't you… __**Sleep…'**_

Then, as suddenly as the voice appeared it then suddenly ebbed away, returning to Hermione's sub-conscience to awaken at the appropriate time. But the voice didn't leave without making its mark on Hermione, both in the physical sense and the psychological one.

It was unavoidable now, Hermione's body had changed; it was now thicker and yet still retained the curvaceous edges which the brunette knew so well. Her stomach was taut and slim, proportioned perfectly to accommodate a modest pair of breasts. The breasts were not too large and not too smaller either, they were… for lack of a better word… perfect.

This was a look that models could only dream of having, where the only option to acquire such a thing was through expensive surgery's aimed at the rich and superficial. And yet Hermione had the real thing; this was what Hermione's body would have looked like in four years if she kept to her eating habits and took care of her body like she always did. All the Succubus had done was speed the process along; Hermione was young, intelligent and now outrageously beautiful to any woman that might come across her.

… And all the girls had seen her…

… And as a result, they now wanted her…

…

This was not where the changes ended, however. The Succubus had not been so kind as to leave the changes at her body, no the creature had trespassed even further. Now, Hermione's lips felt soft and almost pliable to the touch. But more astonishingly; when Hermione wet her lips with the tip of her tongue an overwhelming, intoxicating taste issued forth, causing her breath to shudder. The taste was unique, sweet and oh so delicious.

'_Okay! Okay, now, breathe,'_ Hermione repeated, taking deep breaths as she wrapped her arms around a taut stomach. _'This will all go away, now. People will stop staring at me as if they want to eat me and I'll return to the scrawny little know-it-all everyone is used to! Any moment now!'_

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"Mione!" A loud voice boomed out of nowhere, the occupant of the voice drawing steadily closer.

"W-Wha?"

Then suddenly, before Hermione could even finish her sentence, a young and shapely body crashed into her. Startled, Hermione stumbled backwards and, acting on instinct, held the figure to keep her upright. When she stopped her paces, Hermione attempted to turn her head to look at the girl, ready to give the unfortunate girl a piece of her mind for such inappropriate behaviour. But this movement was halted when she felt the girls head nestle into the crook of her neck, followed by a sound passing the figures lips. To Hermione's surprise, an unexpected giggle left the girl who proceeded to tighten her hold around Hermione's defined frame. While soft, dainty arms quickly wrapped their way around her neck as the brunette was pulled into a hug.

"Um," Hermione murmured, not used to this sort of contact, even from friends like Ron or Harry.

"Hehe,"

Cocking her head to the side, while the familiar voice worked its magic, Hermione's eyes widened and her arms quickly followed to complete the hug. Who else had the cheek to hug her without warning? Who else would have taken the risk when everyone knew Hermione's dislike of physical contact?

The answer was easy…

And, when a lock of red hair brushed against her cheek, that familiar scent calming her franticly beating heart, Hermione instantly knew who it was.

"Ginny!" Hermione cheered, retracting her head to see the youngest member of the Weasley family.

…

However, just as suddenly as Hermione had uttered her best friend's name, a sudden rush of euphoria pulsed through her body. The feeling was immense. So immense in fact that the young brunette was left with no other choice but to bite down hard on her bottom lip, attempting to quell the moan which begged to be let out. Her hands, which pressed against the small of her back, suddenly gripped the loose clothing of Ginny's sweater. While Hermione's arms jolted into place before tightening all of their own accord, pressing both of their bodies firmly against each other.

The stimulation did not stop there, however, because in mere seconds the rush of blood surged towards her pelvic region, Hermione's eyes widening at the sensation it caused. She did not know what to do, how to react, or even how to process such an incredible feeling. This was all so strange to Hermione, the diligent bookworm was finally learning of something which could not be aptly described in a book.

What was this..?

Hermione had never known pleasure like this…

She was not the adventurous type and had not even reached the stage of self-titillation…

This was all knew to her. She had never felt arousal such as this. The pleasurable feeling which gripped her body was relentless; it never allowed her a moment of respite. When she thought the sensation would end, when her state of arousal would diminish, it would quickly rise up again, pulsating within her very core.

Why was this happening to her…?

And why did it feel so good damn good…?

As if sensing the brunette's euphoric contemplation, and moment of weakness, Hermione's knees suddenly buckled from under her. This clearly surprised the youngest Weasley who managed to quickly readjust their positions mid-fall, a gasp leaving her lips as she knelt over her senior. In fact, had it not been for Ginny's reaction the reputable brunette might have ended up slumped on the floor, quite possibly joined by the fiery redhead.

"W-Woah! Careful!" Ginny yelped, lifting Hermione onto her feet until they were facing one another. Noticing Hermione's beautiful features, Ginny immediately smiled serenely and that smile only grew wider as she took in the brunette's own smile. Realising she was staring Ginny quickly looked away, coughing nervously as she felt the proximity between them.

"You alright?"

Surprised, Hermione's eyes darted back to Ginny's, leaving the place she had been staring at for quite a while. It couldn't be helped though; Hermione was utterly transfixed by the sight, the sight of Ginny's supple lip being scraped by a set of pearly white teeth. Now that image would stay fresh in her mind for weeks to come.

When had Ginny suddenly become so… no, gorgeous wasn't even the right word… smoking hot would have better fit Ginny's character.

The comparison was sound. Ginny was not only hot, and the desire of almost every man in the school, but she was also feisty. A dangerous and yet compelling combination. And boy was Hermione compelled by the thought of Ginny's lips pressing against her own. The filter in the brunette's mind was now gone, all thoughts which would normally be removed were now flowing freely. The sight of Ginny's vibrant hair was also had to avoid, it was a beautiful shade of red and only added to her best friends allure. She was smoking hot and the hair more than proved.

"Hello?" Ginny laughed, waving her hand in front of Hermione's face and frowning when she got no response. "Is anyone in there?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, so you are in there after all," Ginny prompted, flicking her best friends head and smiling when she scowled in response. "You had me worried there for a moment."

"Why would you be worried, Gin?"

Eyebrows rising, Ginny smirked. _'My god that is sexy,' _Hermione thought, ignoring the pulsing which was continuing in her pelvic region. _'Smiles like that should be made illegal.'_

"Well, for one; you practically collapsed in my arms. I mean, what was up with that?"

Flushing crimson, Hermione tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and turned to look at the attractive red head. "Sorry, I just didn't expect you to jump me out of nowhere. You took me by surprise."

"Hardly! And even if I did surprise you, that still doesn't explain you falling into my arms. You're not the kind to crumble under duress."

"Well, apparently I do." Hermione retorted, her teeth clenched as she fought against the urge to pull Ginny into another intimate hug.

"Oh, I see." Ginny remarked, leaning closer. "Do I make you weak at the knees Miss Granger?"

Shocked, Hermione's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, no sound issuing forth despite the amount of times she tried to. Upon seeing this Ginny could only laugh, pulling Hermione into another hug which Hermione completed without thinking. The feel of Ginny's body was so good, she felt young and frail in her arms. The need to protect, nurture and love the youngest Weasley quickly swept over her and she sighed contentedly as Ginny nestled further into her neck.

"You are so cute, do you know that?"

"H-Hardly." Hermione replied, afraid to elaborate on what she really wanted to say to Ginny.

As the pair separated, Hermione's hands lingering a second longer than Ginny's, the brunette looked at her best friend once again. She had known Ginny for three years now, having grown close during their times at the Burrow and the Quidditch World Cup, but suddenly Hermione was seeing Ginny in a new light.

Out of nowhere Ginny had suddenly become so much brighter, the mere sight of the redhead causing Hermione's heart to beat that little bit faster.

The jokes Ginny had made were suddenly akin to professional comedians, or at least Hermione's laughter would have made it seem so. She had not made a joke but Hermione could just tell… it was an inkling and when was the last time the brunette was proved wrong. The teasing she had been forced to suffer was unbearable, at least while in Ginny's presence, but she knew the moment the redhead left Hermione would be smiling uncontrollably.

…

And then there was her appearance, her posture and her cheek. To put it simply Hermione found Ginny… utterly desirable.

…

It was ridiculous, Ginny was supposed to be her best friend and nothing more. But these thoughts continued to persist, intruding upon her mind and causing a fair share of heart ache. Hermione did her best to shake away these terrifying thoughts, attempting to convince herself that they were just the product of her overactive brain playing tricks on her. This had to be the case… She couldn't actually like Ginny in that way, could she?

No, of course not, the idea was absurd. Not only was Ginny straight, having proved it by having her fair share of boyfriends, but she was also unattainable to all but one. And that one person, also, happened to be her best friend, Harry Potter. The destined duo, as some had called them. They would almost certainly end up together, Hermione had also been hoping for it. But now, if she was being completely honest… she wasn't so sure.

"Hermione?" Ginny repeated, her features turning concerned as her best friend's face soured noticeably. "Is everything alright?"

"What? Oh, y-yes, everything is alright."

"It doesn't look like it to me," Ginny pondered, her hands tightening around Hermione's without her knowledge. In fact when had they been holding hands? Neither knew but those who watched, and there were a few, would have seen Ginny's tentative fingers wrap around Hermione's. It seemed Ginny was just as nervous as Hermione due to her best friends obvious discomfort, and just as eager to regain physical contact.

"G-Ginny?" Hermione asked, looking down at Ginny's thumb which rubbed against the upside of her palm.

Startled, Ginny fingers quickly retreated from Hermione's side before being nervously crammed back inside the pockets of her winter sweater. Both missed the contact almost immediately but neither voiced their displeasure, it was too open… too honest. Rejection was not something they wanted to receive from their significant other, why ruin something when what you hoped for was impossible?

"Ah, sorry, Mione," Ginny mumbled, her face flushing to an extent which made her lips that much more inviting to the older girl. "I didn't mean to cling to you. I know how you feel about… well, you know…"

"I-It's alright. No harm, no foul… like I always say."

Laughing despite herself, Ginny turned to look at Hermione. "When have you ever said that?"

"Just now, if you must know," Turning towards the sounds of the Hogwarts Express far off in the distance, Hermione wordlessly sought out Ginny's hand and squeezed reassuringly. "Come on, let's go. I want to get a good seat on the train, away from everyone else."

"Why so eager?" Ginny teased, her hand clutching Hermione's like a lifeline as she was directed towards the edge of the platform.

"Why do you think? I want to hear about your holiday, silly. I want to know what you were up to!" Hermione smiled, causing Ginny's face to flush even further. "So we better find a good spot because otherwise, we'll be stuck with a bunch of nosy people who will want to spread everything we say."

"Good point! Stand back Hermione," Ginny said, nudging Hermione further away from her and readying herself. "I'll get us a compartment or die trying!"

"What do you mean? What are you planning?"

Hermione's momentary confusion was alleviated the moment she watched the train pull into the station; she could see Ginny's game plan coming a mile away. Which was why she was unsurprised when Ginny barged past the hurried crowd and leapt onto the train first, timing it perfectly so the doors of the station opened the moment she left the ground.

And as she watched Ginny sprint along the small hallway, through the windows of the train itself, Hermione could only smile in acknowledgement. Her smile widening that much more when the redhead spared the time to look in her direction - time slowing for both of them – and offer Hermione a wave and a cheeky smile. She was enamoured from that moment on.

And then suddenly, without her permission, another stray thought intruded upon her conscience. Although whether this voice was her own or the Succubus, Hermione did not know.

The words she whispered surprised even herself, and she stood stock still in the bustle of students that looked to cram themselves into the Hogwarts Express. Her eyes wide and the silence reigning down upon her, and in this silence Hermione's words echoed all around her.

…

Because they were true after all…

...

"I want Ginny!"

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Authors Note: Wowza! You guys simply rock! Thank you so much for your support, to have received 200 followers in 4 chapters is just… wow! I cannot thank you enough. And to all 61 of you who reviewed this story, I will be replying to your reviews on Sunday, mark my words. The support you have shown me has been amazing and has actually speeded up productivity of this story. In truth, The Succubus should have reached the second chapter by now but your support forced me to write more… thank you guys so much!

I also have some information I need to relay to you and it concerns something that happened in the previous chapter. Simply put, I had a change of heart concerning one of the rules to the changing and as a result I will be going back to correct it. The update should happen either on Saturday or Sunday but I wouldn't definitely advise you to check it out. The change will give me a lot more freedom with the mature rating of this story, i.e. more options for Hermione involving intimate and sexual situations. I hope you will like it, and I will also spend some time making the writing better… I know there are problems here and there; hopefully they will be dealt with.

Last but not least, as many of you are aware several characters have been suggested for inclusion into this story. Most of the characters are already included as a member of the eight girls but others are not, I will not spoil who because it would make the reveal less exciting. If you want a particular character to be involved in this story then please leave their name. I will add up all the votes cast and announce my decision during the tenth chapter of this story, so there isn't long left. I want my readers to have a say in this story and I feel this would be a great way of doing so without impacting the story. I can easily accommodate another character; the only question is… who will it be?

You decide…

Selection so far: Hermione x Ginny x ? x ? x? x? x? x? x ?


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